The Red Thorns
by Alien Emerald
Summary: A Four Founders Tournament is being held at Hogwarts, and Rose must battle her way through four tasks that question her deepest fears and desires, her greatest loyalties and bonds, and her ability to see the truth through all the deception. But to win, she has to win over Scorpius Malfoy by making him fall for her... and try with all her heart not to fall for him in the process.
1. Chapter 1

**The Red Thorns**

_**It's the last year at Hogwart's, and despite Rose being faced with the Head Girl position, as well as the Head Boy who happens to be Scorpius Malfoy, she's must face something much worse. This year a tournament is taking place at Hogwarts, between all four of the houses, meant to bring out the qualities of each house in each of the four champions. But the tasks aren't fire-breathing dragons and spells of the most evil kind. They're something much worse. Rose must battle her way through four tasks that question her deepest fears and desires, her greatest loyalties and bonds, and her ability to see the truth through all the deception. And above all, she must win over the one thing that is in her way: Scorpius Malfoy. She must manipulate him into weakness by making him fall for her, and try with all her heart not to fall for him in the process.**_

**Finally, this story is complete! It's been a long, long time spent writing this. The entire story is nearly done (all 100,000 words of it) so I will be updating regularly and with little delay. For now, here's the full summary and list of characters that are mostly OC, including teachers and the classes they have with Rose.**

**Scorpius Malfoy—Rose's enemy, Head Boy, son of Draco Malfoy**

**Caroline—Rose's friend, blonde, dityzy, but very caring and kind. Loves boys.**

**Pamela Patil—Rose's best girl friend, daughter of Pavarti Patil, stunning looks.**

**Albus Potter—In Rose's year, best guy friend. Son of Harry and Ginny.**

**Lorcan Scamander—Luna and Rolf Scamander's son, Rose's lifelong companion and absolute best friend.**

**Professor Huggins—Arithmacy (Gryffindor)**

**Professor Longbottom—Gryffindor Head, Herbology teacher (Hufflepuff Gryffindor)**

**Professor Tremblay—Potions man (Gryffindor and Slytherin)**

**Professor Haas—Transfiguration (all houses)**

**Professor McGonagall—Headmistress**

**Professor Hagrid—Care of Magical Creatures not taken**

**Professor Woldells— Muggle Studies Hufflepuff Head (Gryffindor and Hufflepuff)**

**Professor Zenobia—Astrology Teacher (All houses)**

**Professor Trelawny—Divination Teacher not taken**

**Prentice—Hufflepuff Prefect 7****th**** Year**

**Professor Ramsey—Charms (animangus raven) Ravenclaw Head(Ravenclaw and Gryffindor)**

**Evan Longbottom—Pamela's crush. Brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, tall.**

**Margery—Plain girl with a huge crush on Lorcan**

**And now, without further ado, I give you:**

_**The Beginning**_

_I won't waste time__trying to figure out why you're playing games, what's this all about __And I can't believe,_

_This is my heart bleeding before you__This is me down on my knees.__This pretense of words we play_

_is slowly killing me._

_But I guess we're all the same,_

_because, really,_

_which one of us is the_

_better pretender?_

_So,_

_Let us dance while I melt in your hands_

_Forget what we thought before_

_After all, you wouldn't want to miss__this part, where my __self-restraint unravels and the facade falls away_

_Where my lower lip between your teeth and the smoke on your breath is sweet enough to swallow_

 _But I guess that was all just make-believe_

**XX**

"Dad."

"—and it's not like it really mattered, but honestly, the nerve of him! I've never, in my whole career, come across someone so infuriating—"

"Dad."

"—but that's just Boot for you, I suppose."

"Dad."

"And he never even asked my opinion, either! It's just,' okay, Weasley, go do this and then that—"

"Dad!"

"—but no, there's no asking how I feel about it, it's just him."

"Ron, you're daughter is trying to get your attention," my mother finally cut in. I sigh exasperatedly, annoyed that _she _was the only one he would stop blathering for.

"Oh, right. Sorry Rosie," he says, turning in his seat to look at me. I am almost pressed against him, as I have been standing behind him trying to get his attention for the last five minutes. He doesn't seem to notice, so I begin.

"I got my letter."

For a fleeting moment, there is something in his eyes that betrays his usual "Oh, great, we'll go to Diagon Alley tomorrow" speech. He knows. Or, he doesn't exactly know, but his eyes betray the _hope _that he's right. That I, the first in all the Potters and Weasleys, will be—

"Ask me what's inside it."

Okay, now he knows. His eyes light up, but he plays along. At this point, my mother finally turns away from nursing her tea to look at us. Apparently, the discussion only just got interesting enough for her. My Dad doesn't notice. "What's in it, Rosie?"

For a moment, I picture what they would do to me if I just showed them a Quidditch Captain badge. Obviously, for what it's worth, they would be very proud…. Well, Dad would be proud, anyways. But Mum would be very near tears if I told her that little _Rosie _wasn't good enough to be Head Girl. I could just picture her writing to Headmistress McGonagall, demanding to know if she was right in the head, because obviously, anyone sane would give her precious daughter the position of—

I show them the badge, and their reactions are instantaneous. Dad jumps up from his seat in surprise (even though, I'm sure, he knew what was coming) and reaches to grab the badge from my outstretched hand, but Mum beats him to it. She yanks it from me so hard that, had I been holding it any harder, it would have cut through my finger.

"Rose! This is amazing! You're the first in the family!"

"Well, besides Percy, but he's not what you would call 'family.'"

"And Bill, too, now that I think of it…. But I mean, Harry, Ron, Ginny or I never got it, so really, you'll be the first!"

"Well, that may have been because we were off saving the world, Hermione, because I'm sure you would have gotten it if you had stayed…."

"Ron, don't kill the moment."

I probably could have walked from the room and they wouldn't have noticed. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the badge they were holding between them. It was now their precious little 'Badgie-Wadgie', and Rosie-Posie was all but forgotten….

But, fairly quickly, the discussion turns back to me, and hugs go around and congratulations are given to the rightful person. Badgie lays forgotten on the table. I secretly decide to polish him later, so to rub off all the grubby fingerprints of my parents.

"Oh, we have to call Harry and Ginny, they'll be thrilled!" my Mum chimes.

"Do you think Al got head boy?" I ask hopefully.

"Oh, no, Rosie, Head Boy and Girl are always in separate houses."

My happy mood immediately leaves me. Most of all, I was looking forward to sharing a large, roomie dormitory with one of my close friends. If Al couldn't share it with me, I don't really see who else could make it worthwhile.

"Oh!" I say, remembering something. "How about Lorcan? He's in Ravenclaw, he might be Head Boy! He was a prefect! He's a shoe-in to get it!"

"Lorcan?" my Dad asks, watching Mum frantically searching for the floo powder. "Luna's son?"

I nod excitedly, ignoring his ignorance. Lorcan's been over nearly every day this summer! How could he not know who he was?

"Hmm…. Well, I suppose he could, but I don't see McGonagall putting you two together. You guys are already best friends. It's unfortunate, but most headmasters don't often put friends together. It's usually enemies who end up together…."

Everything is negative so far, but I refuse to give up hope. "Why would that be? They'd just kill each other, wouldn't they?"

Dad laughs. "Yeah, so you would think. But in my experiences with Head Boy and Girl, it's usually to unite the enemies. Most end up dating, and marrying when they leave school."

My Dad immediately blanches at the thought. His Rosie-Posie, dating a boy whom she shares a room with? Possibly snogging? Possibly shagging? Oh, no, no, no, no.

"Well," he says, his ears reddening, "just promise me that if Malfoy's kid is Head Boy, you won't end up….you know…doing stuff."

I cringe. I would hate it if he was Head Boy.

"Rose and Scorpius shagging?" comes a voice. Hugo's just woke up. "I can't imagine what they babies would look like."

"Hugo!" Mum is peeved. "Just because two people…well…do things, doesn't mean proper precautions can't be taken to…prevent such happenings."

Hugo and I both fall to the floor in hysterics. We're nearly crying by the time Hugo manages to gasp, "Please….Mum, not this again! I…I…I couldn't take another lecture on…wands and witches!"

It's nearly ten minutes before Hugo and I manage to pick ourselves up off the floor, and by that time Mum has already told Harry and Ginny the news, and confirmed that neither Al nor Lorcan got a Head Boy badge (as Lorcan seems to be at the Potter house for the weekend.) Hugo is still hiccupping when Mum pulls her wand out and forces an apple to fly into his mouth. This makes me laugh, and Mum has to point her wand threateningly at the fruit bowl to make me shut-up.

"Well, Harry and Ginny have agreed to go down to Diagon Alley with us tomorrow. There isn't much we need, but it will be nice to pay George and Angelina a visit. They just sent you two a late Christmas present," she points to me and Hugo, "which was very, very generous of them, one hundred Galleons each, I still can't believe it…."

"_WHAT?!" _Hugo and I shout. Both of us are speechless.

"What? Didn't I tell you?" Mum says, surprised.

"No, Mum, you didn't bother to tell us that we have both just become the richest kids in Hogwarts, thanks," says Hugo dryly.

"Well, it's not pocket money, Hugo. I put it in an account for each of you for when you're out of school. I'll daresay it will be helpful when you're looking for a job."

"But you and Dad are filthy rich! What do we need money for?" I cut in.

Mum gives us _that _look. "Your father and I aren't going to be supporting you when you can get a job of your own. You'll have to make your own money."

"What are you going to do with the thousands of Galleons you have now?!" I say.

"Well, your mother and I will be doing some traveling once we don't have you two to drag us down," Dad says, turning around holding a cup of coffee. "And once we die, you two will split our lovely fortune."

There's a moment of silence, filled only with Dad sipping his coffee noisily, before Hugo says quietly to me, "Well, how do you reckon we can get Mum and Dad to snuff it early?"

Most unfortunately, Mum overhears his comment, and sends him straight up to his room without breakfast. Laughing heartily, I head up myself, grabbing some toast and a pack of Exploding Snap from my room before sneaking into Hugo's.

We play a few games and eat our toast well into the evening, only going down for lunch and dinner, and it's only when I crawl into bed do I realize that my Head Girl badge is down on the kitchen counter, forgotten.

XX

The next morning dawned bright and early for all of us. Mum and Dad both claimed that if you got to Diagon Alley really early, you could avoid the worst of the traffic. Mum and Dad said that they just didn't like the lines in the shops (they were rarely that long) but I figured that they, plus Uncle Harry, just didn't like being gawked at by the afternoon crowd, which consisted mostly of young kids and teens.

Too tired to put much of an effort into my appearance, I decide on jeans and a blue shirt, not bothering to do much else besides brush my hair (in vain, of course). I'm downstairs in a record three minutes time, and I see Mum shouting at Hugo through the door to get out of bed.

Dad is downstairs, laughing at Mum's attempts to wake up Hugo. I start giggling too, but when he sees me, his laugh turns to a smile.

"How's my Head Girl this morning?"

"Oh, please Dad, don't start calling me that for the rest of my life, I'm begging you!"

"Nah, I won't…. Just today. Just so I can gloat. Please?"

I give him a look worthy of Mum, but he doesn't flinch. He puts his hands together, under his chin, begging me. I snort.

"Dad…. You gloated about my prefect badge to just about everyone who would stand still long enough, and I didn't even say a word!"

"Yeah, but this is different! James never got Head Boy, and neither did Al this year! I just have to rub it in Harry's face! Please, Rosie?"

"Just to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny," I say grudgingly, right as I hear Mum storming downstairs.

"I swear, if I let that boy, he would sleep into the next century," she huffs, handing out scarves and mittens. I take mine with a wince; they're the color of blue that my Mum always fawns over, how perfectly it matches my eyes. "How on earth does he manage to get to class in the mornings?"

I snigger as I recall all of the red-eyed-Hugo's I've encountered in my past years, all grumpy and snappy. "Well, Al snuck up there the first year he was at Hogwart's. Charmed his alarm clock to beat him over the heat with his pillow to wake him up. I still don't know how he did it, because Hugo can't figure out how to turn it off."

Both my parents laugh as Hugo comes moping down the stairs, his hair messy beyond belief and still in his pajama pants. Mum gapes at him, preparing to yell, but Hugo cuts in, saying, "I brushed my teeth, though."

I laugh, but Mum sends him back up to change and brush his hair. Ten minutes later (seven minutes longer than me, I note with pride) Hugo is back down in baggy jeans and a sweatshirt, with a baseball cap covering his messy hair. Mum doesn't seem to have the patience to send him back up again.

"Rose, you go first. You and Hugo can wander over to Wizard Wheezes, your Dad and I will get your supplies," Mum says.

"Gee, thanks, Mum," I say, surprised at her offer. Usually, I'm expected to get everything myself.

"Don't get used to it," Dad says, handing me the floo powder. I take a handful and step into the fireplace. A few uncomfortable Muments later, I stumble out into the flat above Wizard Wheezes. Hugo comes behind me, looking thoroughly tired, and shuffles ahead to the stairs that lead below.

Down in the shop, it is eerily empty, as they haven't opened yet. George and Angelina are unpacking and straightening up, and neither seem to notice us enter.

"And to what do we owe the early pleasure?" says a voice, and a young image of George appears from behind an aisle. It's Fred, and he looks pleased to see Hugo in such horrible condition. "Gee, couz, you think you'd freshen up a little bit for me. Looking like a douche doesn't really suite you."

"Early pleasure, my ass," Hugo says, stifling a yawn. "And I don't suppose looking like a business man is a new fashion statement, either."

Fred is, in fact, dressed in WWW robes, complete with dragon skin boots. He does a little twirl and struts. "You like it, do you?"

We all laugh, and only then does Aunt Angelina notice our arrival. She runs over and hugs us tightly, telling us both that we've grown, that we're so lovely now, etc. It's normal family talk, and Hugo and I just nod and smile while taking turns hugging her. Uncle George comes over, but fortunately, he doesn't say anything about our growth. He mentions my 'ugly' scarf and gloves (which he knows I hate), and hands me a new pair. However, when I put them on, my hands disappear.

Al, James, and Lily arrive twenty minutes later, right as the shop is about to open. Al grew about a foot since the last time I saw him, and James seems to have gotten more muscular. He flexes for us, and we all laugh when Lily hits him over the head with her book. Lily has also grown, but in a different way. Her hair is longer, and unless I'm much mistaken, she has gotten considerably more beautiful, which is saying a lot. I tell her that she should apply for a job as a model for Witch Weekly. She laughs.

"Where's Uncle Harry?" Hugo asks, at the same time that I ask where Aunt Ginny's at.

"They're both out shopping for Al and Lily," James answers, still flexing, but now with a few wary glances at his sister.

"That's really weird," I say, frowning. "Mum and Dad are both shopping for us, too."

"I wonder what for…" says Lily. "They always make us do it ourselves."

"Maybe they're afraid we'll spend the 100 Galleons that Uncle George gave us," Hugo says, followed by roars of outrage from everyone.

"Mum told us the same thing!" Al yells.

"She said it was for when we get out of school!" yells Lily.

"Yeah, Hugo and I reckon we should make Mum and Dad snuff it to get their money," I say.

Everyone laughs, including Uncle George, who has just come down from upstairs. Trying to look serious, and failing miserably, he says, "Well, now, where would you be without your parents, Rose?"

"I'd be about 100,000 Galleons richer is where I'd be," I say.

It takes a couple of minutes for everyone to stop laughing hysterically. This is something I love about my family. No matter how you say it, no matter what you say, there is still happiness and laughter in the air. There is not a quiet or awkward moment with them.

"Hey Rosie, what's this I hear about being Head Girl, huh?" Uncle George says. I try to silently shush him before anyone hears, gliding my hand across my throat to signal to him, but he pays no attention. The affect is instantaneous. Everyone is shunned to silence, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Oh! So that's what Mum and Dad were kissing last night!" Hugo says, followed by laughter. "I thought that was a bit weird, kissing your badge, Rosie."

"I don't believe it," says James in outrage. "I wasn't even Head Boy! Neither was Al! How is it that a Potter can't get a position of highest honor?"

"Well, it might be because you and Al are so much trouble you practically live in detention," Lily says. "Or that the headmaster has had enough of the Potter's for a lifetime."

"There are more Weasley's than us! She should be sick of them!" says Al.

"Yeah, but the Potter's cause more trouble than all the Weasleys put together."

The discussion continues for a good ten minutes, filled with much laughter and cries of outrage. It's fun to watch, even if I haven't even said a word about my position as Head Girl. I'm almost ashamed of it by the time everyone is finished abusing it. After all, I'm almost shunning the name of Weasley and Potter. Everyone in my family is a troublemaker, and it seems that there are few people who really appreciate my position as a responsible girl. I try to push the thought from my head, promising all the while that I will not be a pompous prat for Head Girl, and that I will at least get five good detentions this year. That will shut everyone up about it. Or, I can just give them all detention for making fun of it. That'll probably work to the same effect.

The rest of the day goes as smoothly as is possible with three Potters, four Weasleys, two Lovegoods (who join us halfway through the day), as well as three nameless extras, all having some sort of connection to one of us. It's nice to see everyone again, although as always, it's a bit overwhelming. I eventually wander off with Al and Lorcan to go hang out at Flourine's. We eat our way through three sundaes, laughing and talking about the previous year, which was easily the most challenging, academically and otherwise. Lorcan had a record five girlfriends last year, all of which dumped him because he was so odd. Albeit him being odd, the girls kept coming because he was so good-looking. Al only dated two girls, the second of which was one of Lorcan's exes, whom he was now quite serious with and who was one of my best friends. I dated three boys, all of whom I never got along with because they didn't do anything but gawk at me while I did other, more productive things. Al and Lorcan both held this against me, and probably would until the day I died; they claimed I was just too good looking for my own good.

To be fair, I told them I had the personality of a dull knife. They laughed at this and tried to deny it, but even they cannot ignore how boring I am.

"Ah, Rosie, you just don't get it, do you?" Al would say whenever I told him this. "Boys don't give a damn about your personality. They're too busy staring at your chest."

I was exceptionally glad that most of my friends were girls, and my two best friends were both (nearly) family. At least I didn't have to worry about _them _staring at my chest. I never got along with many boys, besides Al and Lorcan and…well…the rest of my never-ending family.

We leave Flourine's with a satisfied sweet tooth about an hour later. Assuming it is well after noon, we wander the shops and said hello to friends. I buy three new books at Flourish and Blotts, and afterwards we head to Wizard Wheezes to stock up on Daydream Charms and talk to George and Angelina before departing.

Back out on the street, I see my Mum talking to Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny outside the shop. I walk up behind her, Al and Lorcan tailing me, and see that she is holding something covered in a brown blanket.

"Rose!" she says, jumping when I put my hand on her shoulder.

"You're acting like you committed a crime, Mum," I say, glaring at the brown blanket. "What's that?"

"Um…" she says, looking to Harry and Ginny for support. "Well, it was supposed to wait till later, but I suppose you can see it now."

She sighs as she grasps the brown blanket, pulling it off to reveal a cage, and within it….

"Oh, Mum!" I squeal. "He's beautiful!"

Inside the cage is perhaps the most striking owl I've ever seen. He has golden plumage surrounding his white face, with black around his eyes and on the outline of his face. His white chest is covered in golden brown spots that glitter as he moves around in his cage. His wings are also gold, but are highlighted with brown and black feathers. He looks so handsome; all I can do is stare breathlessly.

"Wow, Rose," says Lorcan suddenly. "He looks more like a phoenix than an owl. What breed is he, Mrs. Weasley?"

"He's a common barn own, actually," my Mum says, eyeing the bird with a smile. "The shop keeper said he was imported from America, actually. They only bought three, but the other two weren't nearly as pretty as this one. I had to offer a fair amount of gold for him, but the shop keeper reluctantly handed him over in the end."

"Wow, Mum," I say, still breathless. "Thank you so much! I've always wanted an owl…."

In truth, I had never really given much thought of getting one before, as I usually just borrow Hugo's or Al's. But now, seeing this one, I don't think I could have thought of anything better….

"Well, I had to get you something nice," Mum says, "you are Head Girl, after all."

"What should I name him?" I turn to Al and Rory, knowing that Mum will probably offer something strange and exotic.

"Well," she says anyways, ignoring that my back is to her, "the shop keeper didn't name him. She just said that he came from a place near a town called Paso Robles. I thought Robles would be a nice name."

I turn back to her. Truthfully, I do think Robles would be a nice name. But for some reason, I don't really want to give Mum the satisfaction of naming the owl.

I ask for an opinion from Rory and Al. Al likes Robles, but Lorcan suggests I name him 'Sir Kingston of Paso Robles the Owl'. I laugh, and decide on a name.

"I think I'll name him 'Rabbles'." I don't want to defy my Mum the chance of getting her say, so I settle on a name relatively close to Robles. Even though Rabbles is kind of silly, I think it suits the owl, who is now hooting happily in his cage.

Not a minute later, Lily, James, Fred, Roxanne, and Lysander. Lily and Roxanne begin cooing over Rabbles while everyone else admires him with envy. I'm happily enjoying their jealous faces when Al interrupts.

"So, why were you and my Mum and Dad shopping for us, Aunt Hermione?" he asks.

My Mum smiles smugly. "Oh, you'll see when you get to Hogwarts. It's a big surprise…. Well, I expect it'll be a big surprise to Rose, anyways."

"Why me?" I ask indignantly.

"Because I expect James will spill the beans to Al and Lily before they get there…. And Hugo isn't old enough for it, so it won't matter, anyways."

There are cries of outrage at this comment, followed by James smiling smugly and Hugo shrugging.

"What is it? What are we doing this year?" Al asks excitedly.

"Oh, you'll see," says James. "It's not that big of a deal…."

"Oh, yes it is," Mum says, "James is just jealous that he's not there this year. It will be very, very exciting."

"Oh, yeah, I'm real sad that I won't be getting my head ripped off by some monster," says an annoyed James, earning a punch in the arm by every adult in the vicinity.

"_WHAT?!"_

XX

**Thank you so much to my AMAZING editor and friend, Kimberley (****xakemii)** **who has been a big help!**

**I will continue to update frequently. About every week or so, or if I'm in a good mood then more. I'm so happy to finally have this story up!**

**Reviews are welcome!**

**Chloe**

**UPDATE: I'm in an airplane. Uploading this to the internet. How cool is America?!?**


	2. Chapter 2

The next few weeks pass too quickly for my liking, yet they come and go gloriously. My entire family, all the Weasleys and Potters, seem glued together by the seam for a while. Not one is seen without the other. There are games of quidditch well into the night, pranks and jokes passed around throughout the day (courtesy of mostly Hugo and Fred), as well as last minute firewhiskey passed around from hand to hand, no matter the age.

Two days before we are to board the Hogwarts Express, there comes a knock at the door.

Everyone is at the Potter household for the last few days before vacation ends, owing to the fact that they had, by far, the nicest house. It's very large, with fourteen rooms, seven of which were bedrooms and four that were bathrooms. The entire house is homey and smelled of a mixture of flowery things and damp earth. The living room is a rich oak in color, with red drapes and accents, which looks beautiful in sunrise (as most of the house had very large windows in the rooms). The kitchen and dining room are both made of a reddish wood, with pictures and portraits of various family members and important people, all of whom smiled down at you when you walked past them. Uncle Harry refused to have a sad picture anywhere, or one that made noise, due to some sort of childhood phobia that seemed to apply to my Mum and Dad as well.

When the knock resounds through the house, everyone seems much too busy to notice it, so I get up reluctantly to open it, my book under my arm. I rub my eyes wearily as the door opens. A hand grabs my arm and pulls me out before anyone notices, and I give a little squeak of surprise. Outside is my cousin Victoire, along with Teddy Lupin, and in his arms is a little blonde-haired bundle….

I just about faint. I end up dropping my book as I shake my head in disbelief. Inside the arms of Teddy is just about the most beautiful baby I have ever seen in my life. She has giant blue eyes the size of eggs, with long dark eyelashes despite her blonde hair. Her skin is tanned, thanks to Teddy, and she squeezes her mother's finger as she looks up at me. I just about jump in delight.

"Oh — my God!" I manage to choke out. Tears are in my eyes.

"Rosie, oh my goodness, I just had her a week ago, but I didn't want to tell anyone, I wanted her all to myself—" Victoire blurts out. I remember how her belly had looked slightly swollen the last I saw her, which was a few weeks ago, so she must have been using magic to hide the baby bump for quite some time.

"She wouldn't even let me hold her," interrupts Teddy.

"She's just so, so, so beautiful, my goodness, Rosie, just be gentle, ok?" And without further ado, Victoire places the bundle into my arms with the most careful movements. "Her name's Nymphadora."

But the rest of her words seem to escape me. There is something about holding another life in your arms, so warm and soft that it's almost painful. It's the most wonderful feeling in the world, and at this moment I would give anything to just sit and hold her forever. She grabs my red curls, bringing it so close to her face she is almost cross-eyed as she stares at it. Her touch is even gentler than her mother's, and I can't help but imagine this baby with the red curls she is currently holding, with blue eyes just like that but bluer, like the sky, and skin just the same, fingers just the same…..

"We want you to be her godmother, Rose," Teddy says, with what seems like a strangled voice.

Real tears begin to leak down my face. One of them lands on little Dora's hand, and she blinks in surprise. "I…I don't know what to say."

"Just say yes, Rosie," says Victoire, her eyes lovingly locked on Dora.

"I—yes," I say quickly. "But why me?"

I can't help it. With an entire family of Weasleys and Potters, why me? I'm nothing special. I'm no more important than Lily or Fred's sister or even Al. I can't help but feel a little angry that they would single me out, like a favorite, when Lily would kill for something like this. All the same, I feel a furious pride at the thought of being almost like a mother to this little girl, getting to watch her closely, take care of her whenever, play with her and spoil her, just like my own child….

"It's not because you're our favorite," Teddy says, seeming to read my mind, something akin to laughter in his voice. Before he can continue, Victoire interrupts him.

"It's because you looked just like this when you were little, Rose," Victoire says, finally looking up at me.

"We saw you in her the moment she came into this world," Teddy says. "We knew she would be just like you."

"But with blonde hair," I say, laughing a little.

"Yeah," Victoire says breathlessly.

I stare down at little Dora, thinking that I would like nothing more than to be the godmother of this child.

"You can show the others," says Teddy. "We're going to apparate to Molly's and tell her the news. She'll probably come storming in here in a few minutes time, demanding to see the baby I haven't even touched yet."

I laugh gently, so not to disturb Dora. I turn away from them as they turn away to apparate. I silently wonder how long it will take everyone to notice that I have a baby in my arms.

I open and close the front door as quietly as I can. It seems everyone was too busy to even notice I had left. I walk quietly over to my armchair, ignoring my dropped book by the front door. I sit down, trying as hard as I can not to laugh as I watch Uncle Harry, Uncle George, Al, Lily, Hugo, James, Roxanne and Fred all playing a rousing game of Exploding Snap. My Mum, Aunt Ginny and Aunt Angelina are all in the kitchen peeling potatoes with magic while talking happily about something I can't hear over the noise.

Suddenly, Dora rustles in my arms, emitting a soft 'coo' sound. This sound, however quiet, seems to slap everyone into immediate silence. Everyone within twenty yards of myself all turn in my direction. I quickly adjust Dora so that everyone can see her face.

It takes a total of three seconds for anyone to move. Everyone reacts the same: they all stand up, rush forward as fast as lighting, and are in a circle around me so fast it must have been magic.

Dora, not used to seeing so many people, makes a noise that sounds like discomfort, and I hug her close to me as everyone begins whispering questions avidly. I want to laugh, but my throat is so constricted with emotion that I just manage to grunt.

"Rose!" is the word that most people say at first. My mother, however, along with most of the adults, are speechless.

Lily spontaneously asks, "Did you get her on the doorstep, Rosie?"

I laugh. "No, Lily, she's Victoire and Teddy's."

Everyone sighs softly. This, whatever I was expecting, was not the reaction I anticipated.

"Where did they run off to?" Aunt Ginny asks.

"Did they abandon her?" Lily asks excitedly. "I'll be her Mum, if she is an orphan."

Everyone laughs at this but me. I cannot think of how anyone could possibly abandon a baby as wonderful as this one. "No," I say quickly, completely serious. "They wanted to go tell Grandma. They gave her to me, because -"

However much I would have liked to see Lily's envious face, and everyone's adoring eyes, I knew that telling them I was appointed this baby's godmother would not be a smart idea.

"- I answered the door, and they wanted to leave quickly."

No one seems phased by my quick change in speech, and no sooner had I said the words, the door bangs open, and in run Grandma in just her dressing gown and a traveling cloak. Teddy and Victoire enter afterwards, and almost everyone immediately rushes to congratulate them.

"Oh my goodness," Grandma says, falling to her knees beside my chair. Dora looks curiously at the kind-faced woman.

Grandma gasps when Dora looks at her. My mum, who was the only one who didn't go to Teddy and Victoire, looks at Grandma with knowing eyes.

"She looks exactly like Rose," Grandma says, tears in her eyes. She looks up at me with a smile. I try to smile back at her, trying to keep my tears in check.

"That's exactly what I thought," my Mum says. She's smiling at me, too, and suddenly, so is Dora.

"That's why she's Dora's godmother."

Victoire has come to collect her baby.

The reaction is instantaneous. I search out Lily's face, and she is indignant. "_Godmother?"_

The younger half of the crowd says the same as Lily. The adults, however, say with the same inflection, "_Dora?_"

"We named her Nymphadora Delacour Lupin," says Victoire with bated breath.

There is uproar of conversation, mostly with the adults, while everyone else watches with wide eyes. I, however, look down longingly at Dora. I can see my reflection in her eyes, and though it seems to me that I bare little to resemblance to her, I can't help but take the words of adoration from Grandma and Mum to heart. Do I really, truly look like this beautiful baby in my arms?

It's too soon when I have to let little Dora go. I feel almost empty when she leaves my arms, as if a part of my own body has left my chest and arms cold and empty. I try to hold back tears as I realize that it might be a whole year before I can see Dora again. I kiss her small outstretched hand as she is taken by Grandma, with practiced arms, and walked out the door with the mother and father in tow.

Dora seems to be thinking along the same lines as me, I think sadly. The big blue eyes only leave mine when she is gone out the door. I sit on the lone couch, thinking, watching as people come and leave the house. Sometime near midnight Lorcan comes and squeezes in next to me, and as alert as I feel, I can't help but drift off and fall asleep on his warm shoulder.

I can't help but dream that night, about what my own child would look like.

The dreams end and begin with a faceless husband, with the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Dora. In the middle, and in the middle of my husband, and me time seems to stop as I hold the fire-hot figure in my arms that slowly melt into water. As the dream draws to a reluctant close, the baby's hair turns slowly to long red curls, and I lovingly watch my reflection in her icy-blue eyes.

XX

The day we are to leave to Hogwarts I wake up to blinding sunshine. It's highly unusual, and for a moment I wonder if I am dreaming still. But the heat that prickles along my face and neck, so silently and wonderfully, is so real I almost think about just skipping the whole year to lay here forever. My arms are wrapped tightly around my pillow, as they have been since I met Dora, as if holding her in a loving embrace. I have dreams of her each night. The same one… every night…

If I could only stay here forever, to sit and simmer in this moment. To dream of Dora, of the faceless, loving husband in my dreams, and to wake to the sun. I know it's too good to last. I sit for a while, trying to imprint this memory is my head forever, to burn it there like the sun is burning me.

I eventually force myself out of bed, my body practically groaning in protest. I shuffle over to my packed trunk, extracting a brown muggle shirt and jeans. I try to brush my hair with a brush, but it's so tangled I have to use magic. It leaves it shiny, bouncing in soft waves as I walk in front of the mirror.

As I run a brush through my hair, which is now manageable, I begin to wonder about the year ahead. Surely, it will be enjoyable. It's my last year and I'm at the top of the school. After this, its freedom I will be breathing. Even if I have to share a common room with someone despicable, at least I can look forward to the end of everything. I think that might keep me going.

My thoughts wander to the position of Head Boy. There were eight prefects last year, and one of them has ended up head boy. Since neither Al nor Lorcan got the position that leaves Slytherin and Hufflepuff. I wouldn't mind sharing the room with a Hufflepuff, as they are generally mild and kind, but a Slytherin. I shudder at the though.

I don't think I will be able live if I am paired up with a Slytherin. Especially Scorpius, who I've had a mutual hatred with for years. No matter how hard some people tried, nothing could change the way we felt about each other, not even a year in the same room together.

My hair is now nothing but smooth waves now. I've become so lost in thought; I can't even begin doing anything else before I hear "ROSE! Get down here, now!'" shouted from downstairs.

Taking one last glance around my room to check if I forgot anything, I grab my trunk and Rabbles and levitate both downstairs. Both parents are waiting below, along with a tired Hugo, all in relatively light clothes.

"What, no snow gear?" I ask.

"No, Rose," my Mum says seriously, "It's warm outside."

"Yeah, I noticed."

Everyone seems to be in a bad mood. As we head out the door, my Mum starts berating Dad for not tidying up the car for the trip. In truth, the car isn't horribly filthy, but I rather think Mum is more upset that he didn't wake everyone up earlier. Hugo falls asleep the moment we are on the road heading to King's Cross. I try to, but my mind is whizzing with excitement, and sleep is beyond me.

The excitement buzzes through me like adrenaline, and I can hardly stand the long car ride to the station. I'm Head Girl! I have power above all the students, all the prefects, all of the kids in my year. I get my own dorm, with a giant common room, a giant bathroom, a giant bed, all to myself. But who's Head Boy? Is it Scorpius or Prentice? It's not long before my excitement widdles itself down to worry. I'm going to be spending the entire year cooped up with one of them, the former of which I don't even like or tolerate. And if my suspicions are correct, if the Headmaster really does put people together to get over a childhood hate, or bring people closer together, then the only possibility has to be —

"Rose, you have to write as soon as you find out who Head Boy is, okay?" Dad interrupts my thoughts.

"Yes, yes, of course," I say distractedly.

In a little more than an hour we arrive. The commotion that ensues doesn't allow me to concentrate on anything besides getting onto platform 9 and ¾. People are practically skating around each other. I always found the frantic movements to be entertaining.

My parents tell Hugo and me that they have to head off to work, and to say hi to whomever might be waiting for us. I hug them both tightly, lingering just long enough to say an 'I love you' to each of them. Hugo and I push our trolleys towards the barrier, bracing for the impact that doesn't come. Rabbles hoots indignantly as we approach the barrier, and I'm sure he is completely outraged that we are charging directly at a solid wall.

As soon as I'm past the barrier, I am bombarded by at least a dozen people, most of which are family.

"Oh, Rose, look who's here!"

"Geez, Rose, she must really like you, she's going crazy."

"She's looking everywhere for you, Victoire said she could barely contain her."

"What are you guys talking about?" I ask, suddenly suspicious.

"Victoire and Teddy brought Dora to say goodbye," Lily answers enviously.

She points to a couple near the train. True to her words, there are Victoire and Teddy, holding a wriggling white bundle of blankets. Passing students eye the bundle curiously, and Teddy's blue hair even more so, but I beat them all as I rush over to them. My trunk lays forgotten behind me, but I manage to take Rabbles along.

"Oh, Rosie, there you are!" says Victoire.

"Dora wanted to see you," says Teddy, handing me the little white bundle as I set down Rabbles.

"That's an understatement," says Victoire. I peel back the blanket from Dora's face, and as soon as she sees me, her wiggling stops and she lets out an excited squeal. Grabbing a lock of my hair, she settles back contentedly into my arms.

"Hi Dora," I say eagerly. Dora smiles at the hair she's holding.

"She was going nuts after she saw you, Rose," Teddy says. "She wouldn't stop her crying. We thought about just giving her to you, but mummy-dearest wouldn't hear it."

I laugh. A few people have stopped to stare curiously at me, and I swell with pride as they watch. Some seem torn between staring at the beautiful baby and the handsome owl. Dora seems to have noticed them as well.

"Rosie!" comes a voice from behind me. "Rosie, over here!"

I turn around to look into the crowd, and come face to face with Pamela Patil, one of my best girl friends. She flashes a smile at me and begins to say something. Her golden eyes suddenly fall to Dora, and widen to the size of dinner plates.

"Oh my gosh!" she gasps. "Rosie—is she—she's so pretty—whose is she? Oh, she's the most beautiful baby I've ever seen!"

I smile fondly at her. Pamela is rarely overzealous, as she knows to be calm, unlike most of the students in our year. She smiles kindly at Dora, waving slightly, although I can tell she wants desperately to pick her up and hug her.

"My cousin Victoire, and her husband Teddy," I say, stepping aside so I can introduce Pamela. Victoire and Teddy are recognizable as students from years ago; they were the prized couple of the school. Pamela congratulates them, not taking her eyes of off Dora.

The boarding whistle blows, and just as I'm about to hand Dora back to her dad, I see his gleaming blonde head in the crowd. Scorpius Malfoy, a look of upmost amusement on his face as he stares at Dora and me. I glare at him, and before I can check his chest for a badge, he jumps onto the train. I quickly kiss Dora on the forehead and jump onto the train behind Pamela, grabbing Rabbles from Teddy's outstretched arm. I keep my eyes locked on little struggling Dora. She is truly beautiful, lying there in the sunlight. Her little fist is thrown into the air as if she's reaching out, reaching for the red hair that isn't there. I sigh deeply as the train rounds the corner, missing her already.

I turn back to Pamela. She has patiently waited for me by the window, a knowing look on her face. I think she must know how I feel. I assume that Lily or Albus has gotten my trunk for me, and usher Pamela to begin looking for a compartment.

Before I get far, Pamela stops me. "Rosie," she says happily, "You're Head Girl!"

I give her a look of sarcasm, as I had written _several _letters to her on the topic, but before I can express my concern for her sanity, she says again, "You're Head Girl! You have to go to the prefects compartment!"

I breathe an 'Oh!' before giving her Rabbles and turning around and heading for the front. I'm hoping against hope that my worst fear won't be confirmed.

XX

As soon as I'm close enough to see the compartment, my breathing begins to increase rapidly. I'm hyperventilating when I'm five feet away. My worst fears are coming close to being either confirmed or denied. I really hope it's the latter. I won't be able to, cannot, will not, sit down and take it if I have to share a dormitory with—

"Hullo, Rose."

No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

I almost say 'No!' when I meet his eyes, but I bite my tongue. I will not let him get the best of me. I will not let him get to me at all.

"Hello, Malfoy," I say politely. I'm sure my eyes are giving me away, showing anger and revulsion as I try my hardest to put on a happy face. I'm trying, and very nearly failing, not to scream in outrage.

"Oh, don't pretend, Weasley," he says. As soon as formal hellos are said, we are both back on a last-name basis, and both are livid with hatred. "You can't believe that you hate this more than I do."

"So you are Head Boy, then?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Who else?" he says, examining his nails in such an egotistic fashion only he could pull it off.

"I can think of plenty of people who are better suited than _you, _Malfoy."

"Oh, like your little boyfriend, Lorcan?"

"He'd be a much better suitor, but he's not my boyfriend. Not that it's any of your business."

"Well, seeing as we'll be living together for a year, I think whatever you _do _is my business."

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

Already, the fire between us is crackling menacingly. Unfortunately, when we're trying to be friendly towards each other, it's much, much worse.

"Now, now, we can't have a temper in front of the ickle prefects, now. Wait until we get to _our _dorm. Then you can blow up as much as you want."

"I _said, _fuck off, Malfoy!"

"Miss Weasley!" comes a voice from behind me. I turn in shock to see Professor Haas standing in the doorway. "I expect better from you!"

Now, despite being angry at Malfoy, I am sincerely confused. Since when has Professor Haas been anything besides easygoing?

"From such an outstanding student," she says with a smile, "I expect a much better comeback than that."

I relax, giving her a warm smile and sitting down (to my chagrin) next to Scorpius.

Professor Haas was hired in my third year; since Professor McGonagall decided it was wise for her not to teach Transfiguration, since being Headmistress was already grueling. So, Professor Haas was hired as the next Transfiguration post and Head of Gryffindor. She is, by far, my all-time favorite teacher, and almost all of the students will agree. Rather than giving you detention for throwing a punch at someone, she talks severely to the person who didn't punch back. If you swear, she gives you a smile and says "That's the spirit! You're getting into the groove, now!" Most of the teachers find her amusing, but the stricter bunch wish that McGonagall will just kick her out and be done with it.

"Now," the Professor begins, looking at both Scorpius and me lightly, "I think you may have figured out by now that the two of you are to be this year's Head Boy and Girl."

We both nod grudgingly.

"Well, that's good, last year a girl didn't even know she was," she smiles and crinkles her nose. "Anyhow, it seems that however much I told the Headmistress that you two despised each other, she was dead set on keeping you together. So, if you don't mind, I'd appreciate it if you don't get into any more fights than is normal for you two."

I snort, and Scorpius guffaws beside me. Scorpius and I not fighting, while living together, is like asking magnets not to be attracted to each other.

"Now, now," the Professor says. "You can't have that kind of attitude. Ripping each other's throats out is normal, I know, but as it'd be on my head if you two died in the middle of the night. I don't think the house elves would like very much to have to clean blood of the walls."

I laugh at this, even though Scorpius remains resolutely silent beside me. It's exactly the kind of thing we would do.

"Do I have your word, that no matter what is said or done, nothing harmful will happen between you two?" she asks, completely serious. "If you two try, you might even be able to become friends."

"Pfft," snorts Scorpius, "Yeah, and flobberworms will fly."

"Magic can do strange things," says Professor Haas, and her eyes twinkle strangely as she looks between Scorpius and me. "Just give me your word, will you?"

"We promise," we say.

"Good," Professor says happily, clasping her hands together. "Now that that's out of the way, let's move onto the boring stuff…."

She skims over the rules, which are much the same as the prefect rules, but with higher privileges and abilities. She skips most of the boring things, such as our responsibility to the school, etc; (this is one of the greatest things about Professor Haas; she falls asleep if it's too tedious as well). She tells us again not to kill each other, blah, blah, blah. Routine sort of things said by a not-so routine sort of woman.

I say goodbye to our Professor, blatantly ignoring Scorpius. She smiles back and waves me off. Scorpius glares daggers down my back and rushes me forward. Resisting the urge to do something vile to his perfect face, I make my way down the train, trying to find the compartment with my friends and owl in it.

XX

"So, who is it?"

"Is it who we think?"

"Is he a Slytherin?"

"Is he Prentice?"

I am immediately bombarded by questions regarding Head Boy as soon as I open the door to our compartment. Albus, Pamela, Lorcan, and Caroline (who was Al's current girlfriend, and one of my best friends) are currently residing there.

Now that I am not sitting still, trying to smile, or trying to be brave, I feel sick. I am no longer putting on a show for the teacher; I am no longer making promises that are almost impossible to keep. I am now faced with the true reality of it all. It's crashing around my ears.

"It's…" I begin. I cannot continue. I fall limply into a seat next to Caroline. She pats me on the back.

"Are you okay, Rose?" she asks softly. "You look pale."

I try to nod, or even smile, but I cannot. I cannot believe what has just happened. It's as if all the karma I have ever put out into this world is coming back all at once. I can't imagine any worse fate.

"It's Malfoy," I say. My voice quakes painfully. I think I might be sick.

"It's not. Surely, not?" Al looks petrified.

I nod, and the uproar is instant.

"They can't do that to you!"

"You'll kill each other!"

"She has to know that!"

"He'll be dead by tomorrow."

I look around at their horrified faces. Although it fills me with pride to see that they care so much, I can't help but worry endlessly. We may not kill each other, but I can think of so many things worse than death in our case.

Scorpius and I have always been rivals, from the very first day we met on the train. To say we became enemies is an understatement. To say we hated each other is not the right choice of words. I don't think there is a word, or even a paragraph, that could describe what we felt towards each other every moment we were in eyesight of one another.

Both of us are top students, and always have been. Even in classes we don't have together, we are at each other's throats for the top spot. That hatred, the competitive edge we gave each other, meant everything to us for the first five years in school. It was more than competition, though, so much more than just despising each other. I tried and convinced myself that the inferno between us was in our blood. My parents told me about how they despised his father, Draco. But no matter what I said or did, Scorpius just didn't resemble the horrible boy my parents mentioned in their stories. He was not horrible, not evil to anyone, just to me it seemed. There was something solely between us and no one else.

I would never be able to trust him, it seemed. Something about him... It was inexplicably strange. I couldn't place it, nor did I want to, afraid of what I could find. When our eyes met, the flame begins to flicker. And as I listened to the rush of my heart, feel the heat of my cheeks; I knew that it would grow to an inferno of hatred before I could stop it.

But that was nothing, _nothing, _compared to another dilemma. No matter how much I tried and denied it, no matter how much I told myself it couldn't and won't ever be true, the reality of it seemed to both wake me up and put me to sleep each and every night when fifth year began.

Scorpius and I wanted to befriend each other. After five years of snide remarks and rude comments, the reality of our situation hit me. The fiery hatred was in dire need of quelling. We tried. Oh, how we tried. But the kindness we occasionally tried to force into the air felt wrongly foreign. It felt so forced it was almost like a compression chamber. We _couldn't _be kind and polite to the other, because the fire between us, the simple metaphor that felt so real, could not be ridden of.

People knew there was livid hatred between us. Nothing changed when we tried to be nice to each other. But it seemed I couldn't tear my eyes away from him anymore. The fire I felt was now almost beckoning me to it; it was a challenge. _Come and stop me from burning, I dare you._

After an agonizing summer away from him, I was beginning to believe that it was all over. Everything would go back to normal. I thought my need to be friendly had been quelled by the space separating our heated looks. I was glad about this, in fact. I would not have to try and be nice to him anymore; finally, I could live normally.

I was never so wrong in all my life.

We never tried to be polite again, but something had changed between us. The fire burned just as strong, just as bright, but it longed to move somewhere. Our hatred was no longer enough to burn. But what else was there to burn down?

**XX**

**Thanks to my editor, Kimberley (xakemii)!**

**Reviews are lovely :) and thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I really appreciate the reviews on this! I'm happy to say that it's going to be a good story, as far as my beta reader and I can tell. I'm still trying to update on a regular basis, as I have more than half of the story finished, but there's always something when you try to put the next chapter up. Anyways, thanks, and enjoy!**

XX

Once we're off the train and into the Great Hall, the sorting begins. I don't keep track of anyone who joins any other tables, but I clap along with everyone else when a number is added to Gryffindor. Once everyone is sorted and settled, the headmistress stands. I notice that there is an unusual sort of silence as Headmistress McGonagall stands to make her usual announcements.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," she begins. Her voice, as usual, holds above the hall. She begins the usual list of announcements; reminding us that the forest is out of bounds, that there is an extensive list of off limits items, and to be on our best behavior. Just as I turn to my plate, expecting food, she says something I was not expecting.

"Most unfortunately, I must hold your attention for a few more minutes, as there is something very important I must announce," she says. There is a collective groan from around the hall. It seems to echo and carry on much longer than it should. "And I think you will be glad that I don't hold this until after the feast.

"Now, before I begin, I must ask you to refrain from any talking or interruptions," she says with a slight smile, "No matter how interesting a thing I may say.

"This year, Hogwart's will be holding a sort of… competition."

The last of the mutterings and grumbling stops. Every eye in the hall is on her now. Even I have stopped dozing off to look at her in shock. A competition? I've never heard of that before.

"Twenty-six years ago, Hogwarts was the host for the competition, known as the Triwizard Tournament. In light of the terrible events that took place that year, it has since been canceled. Nearly three decades later, however, Hogwarts has decided to host—"

The words take immediate effect on the silent crowd. There is an uproar of gasps, whoops and screams. The very last Triwizard Tournament, and what happened during, is known by everyone; it was the year Voldemort rose to power again, the year everyone seemed to turn a blind eye, and the year everything began to fall apart. My family knows a lot more, however, since my uncle was the one who saw Voldemort rise again; an innocent boy died that year. And no matter how much evidence had supported the fact, no one wanted to believe Voldemort was back.

Is there really going to be another Tournament? I would have thought it would be over for sure after the last one. As I tell myself that this will be good, it will be safe and fun, I cannot erase the tales of my Mum and Dad's, of my whole family's, horrible recollection of the whole thing.

"Silence!" shouts the headmistress. "Before you go assuming things, I must implore that you not think of the worst. What happened years ago was a terrible, terrible event, and no one is willing to repeat it. That is why, instead of having a Triwizard Tournament, we will be having a different kind of event. It's name, and it's meaning, is the Four Founder's Championship."

You can tell there is about to be an upheaval at her words, but just as the hall gasps in unison, the headmistress raises her hand and gives everyone a severe look. No one makes a peep.

"This Championship will be a competition only Hogwarts will take place in. No other schools were willing to participate, but it serves the purpose just the same." She takes a weary breath, looking out at the student's. "Among our sixth and seventh year student's," her hand goes up again, because the hall shows every sign of interruption, "Are four champions. Anyone who wishes to be one of those four champions will submit their name with their Head of House. By the end of this month, we will announce those champions to the school, and they will begin to prepare for the first event. There will be four in all, each of the four to be one of the founder's own, and the goal will be to display the quality that the founder of the house would have exemplified him or herself. By the end of the four tasks, whomever has displayed the most worthy qualities from each of the houses will win the Hogwarts Cup."

There is another collective breath from the audience, but all of us are too shocked for words.

"These tasks will not be easy. While they are not life threatening, they are most certainly difficult, and you will have to use everything you have learned in your past six and seven years at school. While some of the events will be done individually, other's will require you to pair up with a fellow champion. No matter the task, you are to show the founder quality throughout it. For example, Ravenclaw's task will require wit and cunning, while Gryffindor's will require bravery and pride in the face of whatever lies ahead.

"Anyone in sixth and seventh year is to submit their name with their Head of House in the next few weeks if they wish to participate. Good look to you all, and please, eat!"

Just as the plates fill with food, there's an outburst of chatter. Most of the fifth and fourth years look disgruntled, but everyone else seems thoroughly excited. I can't lie to myself; I'm looking forward to submitting my name with Neville.

"So, what do you think?" Al asks me. He looks quite as excited as everyone else.

"I think that Mum and Dad know something we don't," I say, remembering their smug looks and secret conversations for the past summer. "And I'm very nervous."

"Why are you nervous?" Al gives me a questioning look.

"Because, the last time a tournament like this was held, something bad happened." I don't have to say what; he knows even better than I do.

"Yeah…" he says. He seems to reconsider for a moment, but brightens almost immediately. "But we won't be in any real danger this time. This is all about wit and bravery and cunning. There's nothing dangerous about figuring out a riddle, is there?"

I nod absently. Somehow, I feel slightly foreshadowed by the oncoming year.

"Besides," Al continues, diving into his pudding with an essence of finality about him, "Even if something bad does happen, I'm sure it won't be any worse than what happened last time."

I feel slightly reassured by his words. Truly, there is no danger of Voldemort ever rising again, so who am I kidding thinking something bad will happen? Everything will be fine. I dig into my own food, glad that I have nothing to worry about as Uncle Harry did twenty-six years ago.

I glance over at the Slytherin table. Scorpius, my fellow head, is glowering my way. I don't look away, annoyed, like I usually do when I catch his eye; instead, I'm deep in thought about something. What if Scorpius is chosen for Slytherin, and I'm chosen for Gryffindor? All in all, it's a good possibility. We are both the smartest students in the school. If we're both champions, and we're required to pair up…. What then? I don't think I could bear having to endure him even more than I have to, now that we share a room.

By the time I've finished going over the horror of it all, Scorpius is long gone, and my food has vanished from my plate. Maybe, just maybe, I won't have to compete against him.

Or maybe, just maybe, we've really both changed. If I do have to compete against him, then maybe our hatred will be fueled again; we can forget the forgery of friendship and how hard we tried to make it real.

But, unfortunately, the reality of it is I'm really doomed. As long as Scorpius is around, something bad is bound to happen. Uncle Harry never had to endure _this._

XX

"How much work do you think we'll get this year?" Al asks.

I joined Al in the Gryffindor common room after dinner. Now, we're relaxing before the flickering fire. We're the last two awake, not surprisingly, as we both suffer from sleepless nights when we're excited. I could try and sleep, but it will be a good few hours past midnight before I am so weary I won't be able to keep my eyes open.

"Well, more than ever, with our N.E.W.T.S coming up and all," I say.

"What about the tournament? Do you think that will cut back on our work load?"

"I doubt it. Probably only for the champions, and even then they'll be struggling to keep afloat."

"I don't think I can handle more work than last year." His eyes are wide and apprehensive.

"It wasn't so bad last year. O.W.L year was worse."

"How do you do it, Rose? You have more classes than anyone, yet you never seem to stress at all."

"Well, that might be because I have no social life."

"That's not true. You had three boyfriends last year."

"Yeah, well, they were content with sitting in the library with me and staring at me, weren't they? I didn't really talk much, and they were fine with that."

Our conversation stops for a while. My thoughts wander idly to Scorpius, whom is probably asleep in the Head's dorm by now. I don't think I could face him awake, especially now that I've come to the conclusion that we're bound to be competitors. Hopefully, by the time I'm back, he won't even hear me come in.

I would have rather been paired with a slug than him for Head Boy. Now that I have no chance of being graced with such luck, I rather hope he slacks off duty as he did for the past two years. Hopefully, he wants to minimize to contact between us, especially if we're chosen to be champions. That way, even if I do have to do a lot with him, the times we actually see each other will be to a minimum. No matter what our past holds, we will hate each other forever and always.

Al and I sit in silence for another twenty minutes, and only when he yawns do I even look up from staring at the dancing fire. I hug him goodnight as he wishes me luck, telling me that everything will be fine.

I hope, hope and hope and hope, that he's right.

I walk quickly up to the Head's dormitory, which at the end of the fourth floor corridor. It seems a long walk from the Gryffindor common room. It takes almost ten minutes, and when I find myself at the end of the corridor on the fourth floor, I come face to face with brick wall.

"Um…" I say, confused and worried. What if it closes after midnight? What if I got it wrong, and it's not on the fourth floor at all? What if I have to look all night for the door? "Hello? Is anyone there?"

Before I can begin to worry anymore, a large portrait of a ugly hag dressed in gorgeous purple robes appears on the wall. I nearly cry in relief when she says, with a scratchy voice, "I am the passage to the Head Common Room."

"Oh!" I cry. "Thank goodness! Um…. I'm Rose Weasley. I'm Head Girl. Can I…uh…go in?"

Before she even answers, I know what she'll say. "How do I know that you're Head Girl? Give me proof. Tell me a secret."

I shake my head in disbelief. Professor Haas told us that we would have to prove ourselves to be able to enter, but I never suspected this. "Excuse me?"

"I know the secret of every student in Hogwart's, though I know not their faces. Tell me a secret, _Rose Weasley, _and if I shall allow you passage."

"Um…." I have no idea what to reveal. I dare not reveal something embarrassing or stupid, but I'm not exactly keen on giving away much else, either. "Uh…. My earliest memory is accidently transfiguring my brother's head to a pig, the day he came home from the hospital, in hopes my parents would take him back."

I feel a blush rising up my neck. The hag simply blinks smartly and swings forward with a 'whoosh', followed by a sigh of relief as I clamor into the portrait hole.

I gasp as I enter the common room. It's decorated lavishly in gold, black, silver and bronze. Most of the furniture is black, including the couch which sits in front of a blazing fire, and the desk against the corner of the room. The floor is gorgeous marble, flecked with gold and silver, and covered in a large rug with the Hogwarts crest in the center of it. The various windows are framed in bronze, while the rest of the wall seems to be coated in names of the previous Head Boy's and Girl's in gold lettering. The effect is enchanting, to say the least, and the room seems to relax me the moment I enter it. The smell is also intoxicating; it smells wild and exotic, like the sweetest flower mixed with the strongest spice.

There are three staircases ahead. The one in the middle, which I assume is the bathroom, I immediately run up. I am eager to see if it is anything to the Prefect bathroom.

I am almost blinded when I open the door. The entire room in covered in the purest white marble, and like below, it is flecked in silver and gold. There is a tub the size of a swimming pool in the center, with hundreds of silver faucets flanking it. There is a glass shower at the back of the room, also with silver shower heads inside of it. Two separate toilet stalls lie next to the sinks against the right wall, and on the left is a another Hogwart's crest, but in the purest silver color.

I laugh happily. This is all almost enough to make up for having to share it with Scorpius. Barely able to contain my excitement, I rush downstairs and head up the staircase to the right this time. Gryffindor's crest is emblazed on the door in deep crimson. I feel my spirits fall slightly…. What if the room is just simply red? I want it, selfishly, to be extravagant, coated in gold and soft velvet, I want it to be perfect—

Just as I wish, the room is beyond anything I could have dreamed. It seems to be a mixture between the dark common room and the bright bathroom. The drapery and the carpet are the only red things in the room, yet they don't bother me at all. The bead spread is golden silk, with pure white sheets. The wall is coated once more in golden names, but only of the Head Girl's. Suddenly, I cannot wait to put my name among the rest. Gryffindor's crest is on the wall, in crimson and gold. And although I look all around for it, I cannot find a bathroom. I assume I must share one.

Nothing could bother me, though. I excitedly begin unpacking my trunk into the wooden dresser, glancing up every so often to look at the room. I think how lovely Rabbles will look in the room with all the gold.

I look down at the garment in my hands, failing to contain my shriek. Somehow, I have obtained a _dress. _I finger it numbly. It's…beautiful.

The gold glitter and sequins glisten under the soft lighting in my room. It's almost large and extravagant enough to be a wedding gown. It's white all over, except for the gold accents in places, such as the curtain over the skirt and the lining on the top. It's strapless, and I can't help but think of how revealing this will be. It's gorgeous, stunning, even, but I cannot even begin to think of a situation in which I would put something like this on.

But…. This is what my mother went to get for me the day she went shopping without me. If she bought something this beautiful, obviously for me to wear, what on _earth _would I have to eventually wear it to?

Then it hits me. The competition. Surely there will be a sort of formal event for it? There was one in my mother and father's year, for the Triwizard Tournament. I give a feeble laugh. I can't even begin to imagine the look on people's faces if I wear something like _this _to the ball.

I carefully place the dress on the top of the dresser, putting an impenetrable charm on it just in case. I fall into bed with a large shirt on, too tired to do anything purposeful. I can't help but let my mind fall into thoughts of Scorpius, wearing dress robes and carrying a rose, watching me twirl and turn in the dress. It glitters across his features as the sequins hit the light…. Once again his eyes resemble Dora's.

XX

When I wake up, I stare idly at the ceiling, trying to imagine the day ahead. Obviously, lessons (for the whole year) will be torture. But I managed O.W.L.s, did I not? And I had even more classes back then. But it seems, no matter how hard I try and convince myself that the lessons won't be excruciating, I can't help but remember that this is my last year at school. This is my last year before I venture into the real world. How come this thought brings so much sadness, even as I tell myself that I am more than ready to move on?

The answer floats around in my head for a while before I am ready to grasp it. It's painful to think about, but the answer is as clear as day: there is something, or someone, missing.

I force myself out of my warm bed. The cold air seems to hit with unnatural force, and I am tempted to crawl back into my silken sheets. But no. I will be late again if I don't hurry up.

The quiet of my room, of the common room, and the whole air of the place unsettles me at times. I am so used to waking up to gaggles of girls and shouting below. Now, a blanket of silence settles around me, as if someone has stuffed my ears with cotton. I didn't speak to Scorpius last night…. Somehow, this unnerves me.

Wanting desperately to use the warm bath, but knowing I have too little time, I pull out my robes and Gryffindor scarf and set to dressing. I comb out my hair (which takes a good ten minutes, having not been brushed for a while) and settle on pulling it back in a red ribbon. Taking one last glance in the mirror, I grab my bag and books and shuffle downstairs.

To my surprise, Scorpius is still in the common room when I enter. My stomach gives a little jolt when I realize that he is, in fact, waiting for _me. _Surely he can't want to walk me to my class? But even as I think it, trying desperately for some form of agitation, I can't help but feel slightly pleased.

"Good morning," he says as I descend the staircase. "I never heard you come in last night."

Is this his new tactic? To be so polite that it's almost repulsive?

"That's because I came in late," I snap. I am certainly not up for his games.

"How late is late?"

"Three in the morning."

"Dear, dear. Looks like I'll have to keep a closer eye on you."

I'm sure he winked at me, but it was so fast I had no time to catch it. What is his deal? Just as I'm sure he can't be any worse, he smiles politely and says lightly, "Can I take your books for you?"

At this, I stop dead. My mouth is slightly ajar, and I'm sure I look thunderstruck, but I don't care. What in the world is wrong with this boy? He knows we can't be friends. He knows this….. So why is he trying?

"What the hell, Scorpius?" I can't stop myself from saying his first name.

"What?" he asks innocently. A little too innocently.

"You're being… _nice,"_ I say. I squint my eyes at him, trying to see past his ruse.

"Why can't I be? Have you completely given up on me?"

This comment takes me off guard. Before I can help it, sadness begins to well inside me. I know what he means. How can he possibly bring up something like this? He must know I want a friendship badly. He had to have known that, and he must know that he wants it too. This hurts beyond any rude thing he could have done.

"That's uncalled for, Scorpius," I almost whisper. I can't help it. I'm torn between wanting to be his friend, to try once more, and punching every inch of him for even suggesting such a thing.

His eyes fall slightly, and I know he knows he's upset me. "Look, Rose," he says softly. "I'm sorry about all of it. I just want to try, one more time. Please, I just don't want to regret this last year, okay? Can you please try?"

His words are carefully, and well, chosen. I am tempted to give in. I am so tempted; I even open my mouth to say all is forgiven before I stop myself.

Scorpius would not do something like this. He was never the one to verbalize his want for a friendship; actually, the only way we've ever communicated this is by actually being friendly, not saying the words. He would not apologize without some sort of benefit on his part. So what is his motive this time? Is there a bet going on? Or does he really just want to be friends? Somehow, I don't think it's the latter.

"I—no, Scorpius.. It's…. I don't want to….." I am on the verge of nothing. There is no reason I can tell him. I refuse to say I don't want to be friends because I'm afraid that he'll know I'm lying. So, instead, I just say, "I'm not going to force this again."

His eyes flash anger for a moment; but it takes only that moment to put on a sad and heartbroken face. I am quicker, though. I know he's hiding something. Suddenly it's not just the fact that I'm afraid of a friendship, it's also the fact that he is hiding something. He's lying to me, and it makes his next words even worse to deal with.

"I figured you might say that. But I wish you'd want to try as much as I do." With one last glance, he turns and leaves the room with his head bashfully low.

Whatever he may be hiding, his words hit home. I realize that I'm not afraid he's involved in some kind of bet with me. I'm just afraid…afraid that I really do want to be friends with him. Yet our efforts will never be able to overcome our hate.

But I won't let it ruin anything, because I'm determined that this year be perfect.

XX

I walk into the Great Hall trying to push all thoughts from my mind. What Scorpius may be planning. What he wants. What I'm so afraid of. What I still feel for him. I fill my stomach instead, with a large platter or eggs and fried tomatoes.

Lorcan sees me, over at the Ravenclaw table, and comes and sits down next to me. He's munching on a muffin. I smile up at him, and he smiles airily back.

"Hi, Lorcan," I say.

"Hi Rose," he says. These are the words that pass between us. These words, and then he begins to pick off the toasted bit of his food.

I am too used to this to notice or care. Leave it to Lorcan to leave me in the only comfortable silence I have ever endured.

"Al wandered off somewhere," he says suddenly, as if he's just remembered. "With Pamela and Caroline, too."

"Where'd they go?"

"To submit their names, I suppose."

I think about this for a moment. Did they really? I think of Neville taking their applications regretfully, as if he knows he will have to deny them all the chance to be a victor.

Do I want to submit my name? If I get chosen, and Scorpius gets chosen, what does that change? Nothing? Everything? The questions pile around in my head until I literally have to shake it to get rid of my thoughts. I think I've already determined that I have no choice, that I have to submit my name.

"Oh, Al said he would submit your name as well," says Lorcan.

So much for having a 'choice.'

"Are you going to submit yours?" I ask hopefully. Lorcan would be a good choice for Ravenclaw champion. If I can't have anyone else, at least I can have him.

"I suppose," he replies. Then he is too interested in his muffin to say much else. I laugh and pat him goodbye, deciding to try my chances at finding Al or Pamela.

XX

During Charms, which is my first lesson of the day, I locate Al and try to look stern as I confront him about submitting my name. He tries to look ashamed, too, but he's not as good as it as I am.

"So," I begin. "You decided it was a good idea to submit my name without my permission?"

Having the good sense to lower his gaze, he says, "Well, I thought you would have submitted it anyways."

Just because I'm too stubborn for my own good, I refuse to tell him the truth. I refuse to say that, had he not submitted my name, I would have been there only two minutes after he went. Just as he has the good grace to look shameful, I have the good grace to look outraged. "No! I wasn't even planning on putting in my name!"

He looks taken aback. "Sorry, Rose. I would have thought you would have wanted to."

I can't really give a response to this. Why am I lying? Why am I telling him that this championship means nothing to me at all? When, in truth, it means more than I will ever admit to myself?

I take my book out of my bag, not meeting Al's eyes as he continues to stare at me. Something is buzzing in my head that I refuse to acknowledge at this moment. This is too much, too much, to happen within my first day back.

"Good morning, students!" calls Professor Ramsey, Charms teacher and Ravenclaw Head of House. I smile up at him, glad to see a familiar face in a time so unfamiliar to me. "I don't think you'll be needing your books today, I think. We're going to be going over the basics for the next few weeks, so I suggest you just brush up in your own heads!"

Second only to Professor Haas, Professor Ramsey is one of the best teachers at Hogwarts. He reminds me of a wise old bird, with his ink black hair and beady eyes. He had reminded me of a bird the very first day of school, and it shocked me to find that he really _was _one. One day, during dinner, when the headmaster was giving a speech, she turned around and told Professor Ramsey to deliver a message to our divination teacher. He promptly turned into a raven and flew from the room, and half of the students fell off of their stools. I looked him up in the ministry Animangus records to find that he was, in fact, one of the first registered Animaguses on earth. This only heightened my respect for him.

"Let's begin by review something fun, just to get us in the mood for the lesson ahead," he begins again. "I'd like you all to turn to your partner and practice a few Cheering Charms. Be careful, though. I don't want any hysterical students in my class today."

With a final wink, he lets us go off on our own. I turn to Albus. There he is, his wand ready, asking if he should go first as I nod. Why do I have to stay mad at him? If I let it go, then I myself can let it go.

Letting go doesn't seem to be a conscious choice, though. For the next half an hour, Al and I repeatedly charm each other, and sometimes purposely too strong, and smile jubilantly as all is forgotten. At one point, I am forced to put my head between my knees because of Al's spell. It seems he is quite taken with the turn of events.

I am too. As we move onto reviewing multiple spells, I cheer up dramatically even without Cheering Charms to help. I don't want to forget completely what is nagging at my mind. I was lying to Al for a reason, and I'll be damned if I don't figure it out. But I'm ready to forget for today.

After we are dismissed to our next lesson, I walk with Al with no more words on our previous feud. I am glad for this, glad he has forgotten, and hope it doesn't come up again. We walk to the Transfiguration classroom, eager to see what Professor Haas has in store for our first day back.

As usual, the Professor just stairs airily at us as we all enter and take our seats. I always think of Lorcan's mother, Luna Lovegood, when the Professor gets like this. I always think that people like this, airy and dreamy, are the best people to be around.

"Hello everyone," she says vaguely as we all take a seat. "I see no one has been expelled yet. That's good. Any detentions?"

We all laugh. This, along with her relatively kind demeanor, is what I love about Professor Haas.

"Well, I have a great year in store for you all," she begins again. Her smile is lively and bright as she crinkles her nose. "Without any further ado, let me introduce you to the topic that will be the goal for the year."

And, just as her sentence ends, there's a small 'pop!' and our Professor vanishes. Some students gasp, and I think for one moment that the Professor has apparated within Hogwarts. Before I can question it, however, a small rabbit hops onto my desk.

I am so shocked I cannot even move. Where on _earth _did this come from?

Unlike me, who cannot utter a sound, several people gasp and point at the rabbit on my desk. It is a light brown color, almost blonde, with dark brown eyes and dark lashes. And unlike a normal rabbit, whose nose is notoriously known to twitch and ears to turn, this one is completely still. It's giving me a look, too. It's the kind of look I usually get from—

"_Professor?" _I manage to gasp. Is it really? Could Professor Haas really be an animagus?

Before I can voice these questions, the rabbit gives a curt little not, and her eyes light up. Turning away from my desk, she bounds over to the other desks, allowing all the students to examine her closely. I can't even believe this. Is this our aim for the year? To study animanguses, to maybe even turn _into _one?

"Well, now," comes a voice. I turn to see Professor Haas standing at the back of the room, now back to her original human form. Now that she is back to normal, I can't help noticing the unmistakable signs that the rabbit showed. Professor Haas has dirty blonde hair, with was the rabbits fur color, and very tan skin. Her face, when not crinkled or laughing loudly, is very beautiful, with sharp eyes and features. These were all signs that the rabbit showed.

"As you may have just noticed, I turned into a rabbit," she continues. A few people laugh. "But, if you are beginning to think I am an animagus, then you are mistaken."

A few people begin murmuring and wondering. How can she turn into a rabbit without being an animagus? There is only one spell that can do that, yet only being an animagus makes it so your animal resembles your physical and mental.

"The things we will study this year involve animanguses, yes. But not only that. Very recently, a devilishly talented wizard has created a spell that can transform you into, essentially what would be your animagus, until you wish to change back. This, I think, is one of the most revolutionary spells of the generation. While the ministry is currently trying very hard to place strict guidelines on this spell, it doesn't stop people from transforming left and right. And as it is disastrous if performed wrong, don't go thinking you'll be changing into your animal in a matter of days."

There is a collective gasp from the room. Someone shouts, "We get to be animals?" and a few others give woops of excitement.

"Yes, yes," Professor Haas says quickly, waving them off. "While studying this spell, you will be slowly working towards the end of the year, where you will all transform into your respective animals for a few hours." She smiles at the reactions of the students. "And who knows? If one of you is to become Champion, then this spell might very well help you to win."

There. She's done it, now. Even with the excitement buzzing around the room, I now am forced to remember. I may be a champion, and I may be competing against a sworn enemy. I will be lying to Albus, telling him I don't _really_ want to compete. When in truth, I am only lying to myself.

The rest of the lesson is drawn on too long for my liking. No matter the interest level, my thoughts are on only one thing.

This year may come to mean more to me than any other.


	4. Chapter 4

XX

Amazingly, the next week passes by with little incident. Despite my nerves about the upcoming games, I am determined to keep my unsure feelings buried deep down. I will not let anything get in the way of my grades, of this year, not the games, not Scorpius, not anything. And just like the games, I keep my emotions about Scorpius buried down as well. It isn't hard, especially since Scorpius and I are hardly conversing at all. This helps more than I could possibly say.

The second Monday of the year, exactly a week from the first day of school, the Headmistress rises from her table. Since this is highly unusual for just a normal day, most of the students in the hall fall immediately silent.

"After a week of deliberation," she begins, "The Heads of Houses have decided the four champions who will compete in the Four Founders Championship."

No one says a word as the four Heads of Houses rise. There is no need to silence the crowd, as no one would dare talk right now. I myself think my throat has squeezed itself shut.

"The Hufflepuff Champion," begins Professor Woldells, Head of Hufflepuff House and Muggle Studies teacher, "is Anna MacMillan."

There is a chorus of applause from the Hufflepuff table, but I am not paying attention. I can already tell this is going too fast. This is horrible. I never _really _wanted to be champion, did I? This was all a big game to me. Something that would be fun to do. Something I could have bragging rights about, if I come out victorious. Right?

Anna, with her long dark hair and porcelain skin, takes the stage happily. People are still cheering for her as Professor Ramsey takes the stage, whom is the head of Ravenclaw. He opens his mouth to speak, silencing the applause almost instantly. "The Ravenclaw Champion is, I'm pleased to announce, Lorcan Scamander!"

I manage to clap with the others, so glad and happy for Lorcan my heart skips a beat, but my brain is fogging up quickly. I am just lying to myself. I do want to be champion, more than anything, and it's merely fear of not being chosen that is forcing me to tell myself this is unimportant. What if I'm not chosen at all? I was so sure I would be, so positive that it would be me, but there is no way I could have been sure. I am still not sure. Will I be crushed if it's not me? I need this…. This is so important to me, and I don't even know why. It has to be me. It has to.

"—Scorpius Malfoy!" I do not even look up as Professor Haas announces him as champion. This was expected. This was inevitable.

Will I be crushed if I am not standing there beside him? Is it because of this boy that I want this so bad? Maybe I have the idea that this championship can finally burn the fire away between us, that we can become friends—

"The champion for Gryffindor," Professor Longbottom begins. You can almost hear the air crackle with electricity. "Is Rose Weasley!"

Pats on the back. Cheers from the crowd. Shoves to move forward, because right now my feet are failing me. This would always happen. There was no question about it; I was just being silly in doubting myself. But why am I so worried now? If there was no doubt about being one of the four champions, what is there to doubt now? Why am I threatening to fall down in dread as I make my way to the front of the hall?

What is there to question?

The dull lit ceiling shines down on me, focusing on me and me alone. Every pair of eyes in the great hall is on me now. Somehow I manage to smile, smirk even, and pretend to be full of confidence. Yet a sense of foreboding swells and churns in my chest, and I cannot just dismiss it as a case of nerves.

My eyes seek another. Who they find, however, seek mine as well. As I meet Scorpius's gaze, steady and strong, I know what I'm so afraid of. It is, in part, his fault for making me crazed with fear. It is his fault for giving me hope that this competition will illuminate my path towards him, towards the one boy I really never gave up on. I am ready to embrace our nonexistent relationship with open arms, no matter how much it burns. I want him so badly it hurts.

But a part of this has nothing to do with him. A part of this fear, this uncertainty, is something I am finally ready to admit to myself. As these cheers press me on, these eyes scrutinize my every step, these hands reassure my victory and their wavering support, I know. This victory, this inevitable victory that I am so sure will be mine, means so much more than just these eyes or hands or cheers.

It means something unexplainable. It means completion. It means that, no matter what happens in my future, if I win this, victory will remain in my past. Who's to say I won't just fail for the rest of my life?

But if I can win this…. If I can win this, I will be a winner no matter what I become.

I take my place besides Scorpius, brushing my arm against his, bringing tingles along my skin. I look over at him, meeting his gaze, planning on flaunting my confidence now that I know what my goal is. Now that uncertainty is not part of the question, now that I know I have to win this. There is no fear, either, because I know I am going to win this no matter what.

But then, suddenly, he has changed everything. His kind smile, so unflattering on his sharp features. His searching eyes, so different from the arrogant ones I am used to. He is afraid. He is afraid, because he now has a threat that only I could have posed. He has a weakness, and he can't afford a weakness.

Because I'm not the only one who wants to win this. With one look, I know he wants to win it for all the same reasons as I do.

If he can get inside my head, get close to my heart, he will stop me from becoming a winner. All these emotions between us will be used to his advantage, to manipulate me into weakness, until I am no longer a threat. That is his plan. That is his game. He will be that winner, from then until the day he dies, and I will have no past Victoires to cling to.

But because two can play this game, I smile back at him and feel that familiar fire rise up between us. There will be only one victor in the end.

Keeping thing buried will not help. All in that gaze, all in that moment, I let everything I have ever felt for this boy fall into the fire. The heat explodes into an inferno. It surrounds us, buries us, and I see his gaze falter for one small second.

I am determined to be that victor.

XX

In spite of my recent revelation, I try to keep a straight face for the next few weeks. If Scorpius finds out that I know then my plan will fail. His plan has already failed, I think will glee. There is no way that I won't come out on top of this. Surely he knows that?

I now see his motive for being kind to me that first morning. Obviously, he realized that it was inevitable that we would be two of the champions. He must have been playing to weaken me ever since the contest was announced. It's too bad he doesn't know that I'm now on the same page.

I couldn't immediately play up my part. I had to wait. And so I did, for an agonizing week of ignoring his helpful gestures and happy smiles. He would have realized right of the bat if I had just handed him my books and my hand in friendship. He's too smart, and so I have to play hard to get.

The one thing that irks me is that, had this competition not been in our way, and had Scorpius tried to be my friend without an ulterior motive, I would have been just the same. I would have hidden my smiles at his generosity, concealed my heart beneath layers of skin, and ignored him as much as I could. The only difference between pretend and actuality is the fact that I'm aware of what I'm doing. Instead of it being instinctual, everything I do from now on is nothing but intellectual.

I am still playing hard to get. The real Rose Weasley would have held back until her resolve could not be pushed any further. Scorpius, had I done anything else, would have sensed this. And I will know when the time comes to give in. Because, even though I am playing this, acting this (because this is all make-believe, no?), I feel every simmering moment that surfaces between me and this boy.

Because no matter what I do or say, the fire between us is _real, _and I can't help but feel its flames licking my mind and heart.

XX

"So, Rose," Al says in Charms one day, "what are you going to do about the upcoming task?"

We haven't talked much about the championship. Al is obviously crestfallen that he did not get the chance to be a champion. I can see him regretting entering my name every time the topic arouses around other people.

"Well, what can I do but wait?" I respond. I have to admit, my agitation is growing. No one will know what the first task is until the day of the event. If I could at least know what it is, I could spend my time looking up things that would help me in the library, instead of just pacing up and down an empty room.

"Do you think anyone would tell us what the first task is?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously. I snort. "You know, like my Mum or Dad? Or yours? They probably know exactly what it is."

"Yeah, but the chances of them telling us are about zero to none." I pick up my wand again, trying to concentrate on the Vanishing Spell we are supposed to be placing on the feathers before us. I tap my wand smartly against the feather, and it's gone. Al doesn't look interested.

"But what if we can persuade them? Tell them that you aren't eating or sleeping, cause you're so worried about the first task?"

"I doubt that'll work. Our family aren't really the people to feel guilty, are they?"

"What if we say that it was their fault for telling us about my dad's time in the Triwizard Tournament? That they gave you nightmares because of it? That'll make them feel guilty."

I shake my head. Al wants to know about the first task more than I do. Unfortunately, all that anyone's been told is that the first task is Gryffindor's. I suppose this would calm me more than irritate me, but it got me going to the library to do extensive research on Godric Gryffindor well into the midnight hours. What if I don't win this task? It's Gryffindor's, after all, and I should be the one winning this one.

"Al, I really think you should just be patient," I say. It's more to just shut him up, because I am even worse when he's not around. "Besides, you're not the one who has to face whatever the hell it is."

I immediately regret my choice of words. Al's face falls glumly, and he takes to twirling his wand around his floating feather until it's reduced to bits. I don't really know what to say. It's not like I can offer many encouraging words in this case.

When the bell rings, Al and I depart our separate ways. I meet Pamela halfway to my next class, Arithmacy, and I tell her about Al's downhearted spirit. She just sighs and tells me he'll get over it before lunch. I hope she's right.

We leave Arithmacy with considerably heavier book bags, as Professor Huggins has assigned us a two-foot essay on the magical properties of odd and even numbers. I can't help but doubt that I might not make it out of this year alive, what with the workload we're being given.

"Ooh, it's Transfiguration next," Pamela says excitedly. "I hope we get to do more than essays today. I really want to turn into an animal soon. It seems like all of our teachers have, anyways."

I nod my agreement. It would be nice to turn into an animal, actually. Escape reality for a few hours. I wonder what animal I am…..

Pamela and I take our seats, after seeing that Al has paired off with Lorcan. I can't help giggling whenever I see these two close together; they are, literally, complete opposites in looks. Al, with his jet black hair, dark skin and eyes, looks almost black. Blake, however, has beach blonde hair, translucent skin, and sky blue eyes. People often call them the opposite twins, because if they had the same color pigments, they would be almost identical.

"Hello, everyone!" Professor Haas gives her usual greeting. She looks particularly cheery today. "Today, let's get right down to business."

Everyone straightens in their seats. No, we heard right. We really don't have to get our books out today. Hurray.

"For the rest of the year, you will be partnering off with someone who will be your…um... Well, they will be accountable for supervising you when you attempt to change into your animal form. So, choose your partner wisely, as they will be responsible for much of your life, as well as your even more important grade."

There's a tinkling of laughter as people turn towards their partners. I look at Pamela, and she smiles and asks, "Do you wanna be partners?" I nod, glad that I don't have to face Al with this.

"Oh! Wait a minute!" shouts Professor Haas, as if she's just remembered something. "I don't want you pairing with anyone from another house, no matter how smitten you Gryffindor's are with my lovely Slytherins. Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuffs, I'm sure you'll get along fine, but you know, I don't want you getting too friendly."

Ha. Not like any of us were planning on pairing up with them, anyways.

"I want your buddy to be close to you, so you will preferably share a common room." Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. "So, Gryffindors with Gryffindors and Slytherins with Slytherins. Except, of course, for our Head Boy and Girl."

I immediately tense, and I see Scorpius does, too. But he relaxes much quicker, and turns around and gives me a silly smile. This is all the more reason for me to want to trust him, right? He's probably thinking, right now, how exactly this arrangement will work to his advantage.

Oh well. I'll just have to play _harder _to get.

"While we move forward, in ever progression towards changing into our animals, I want you all to do some research." There is a collective groan from around the classroom. "Now, now, let's not be ickle firsties about this. It's more than just research. You and your partner are to sit down and record your respective personality traits, your physical attributes, and your different habits. When you have basically chewed yourself up, swallowed, and then spit yourself out again, I want you all to turn into me a guess at what animal you think you will turn into. Research some animals, and if one of those animals look like you and act like you, then chances are that it is your animal. I will award an extra one hundred points in extra credit to whomever guesses their animal correctly."

Ooh, this could be fun, I think. Even if I do have to spend the day with Scorpius.

"How long does the essay have to be?" someone asks.

"It doesn't matter how long, just as long as you show me how selfish and ugly you all are, and pinpoint an animal to those qualities."

Everyone laughs at this, because Professor Haas is smiling herself. When the bell rings, I feel considerably happier than I was an hour ago.

XX

In the great hall one night during dinner, Caroline decides to break the news to me. Unfortunately, I have a spoonful of pudding in my mouth at the time.

"So….," she begins, blushing, and Pamela and I stare at her. She blushes even more. "Guess what Al and I did?"

I stare at her. She stares at me. Just because I don't ever want to hear any sort of words escape her lips right now, I cut in, "Tell me you went to the library and read an amazing book. Dear God, please tell me it was the library."

If possible, she blushes so much that it could rival my own father. Her cheeks are full and pink as she mutters a small 'yeah' and stares at her chicken leg.

"What?" Pamela asks. She doesn't seem to be getting it yet.

"Well, it was in the library," Caroline says, so quietly I barely hear it over the chatter in the hall.

"Excuse me?" I stutter in indignation. "_What?"_

"Well…. me and Al…. you know….."

And that is all she manages to mutter before I go completely ballistic.

"No, no, NO!" I yell. "You DON'T tell me these sorts of things! I'm practically his _sister, _I don't want to have anything to do with…stuff….that you did….. It's GROSS!"

Caroline and Pamela both laugh. It may be funny to them (in fact, I'm sure it's hilarious) but the whole thing is giving me images that are not welcome. Good for Caroline for finally getting laid with her boyfriend of three years, but I really have no desire to hear it, and I tell her so.

"Sorry, Rosie," she says, still giggling, "I thought you might want to know."

"What? And picture Al and you _doing it? _What are you trying to do, scar me for life?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I wouldn't want to know how many girls _my _brother's shagged."

Caroline has an _extremely _cute older brother. I'd probably like to know how many girls he's shagged... Pamela seems to be thinking along the same lines, because she looks up in earnest, suddenly interested in the conversation we're having. What little was left of Caroline's laughter evaporated on the spot; she looks at both of us in disgust.

"Ew. Yuck, guys. That's _gross."_

"Yeah, now you know how I feel."

"And it's not gross to _us," _Pamela cuts in. She's got one of _those _glints in her eyes.

"Okay, can we get off the subject of brothers, please?" Caroline is practically begging.

"Please," I am too.

We all resume eating in silence. I'm too full to eat anything else, so I chew a bit of rubbery pudding in my mouth for a while. It rolls around on my tongue until my mouth is dry and I have to take a swig of water. It helps, but I am still hoarse. Surely a little bit of mush couldn't do that….

And then I realize, the goopy pudding isn't the cause of my dry mouth. It's _him, _and he's staring right at me. I try to avert my eyes, but his are like glue. I cannot look away. They're so deep, so blue, against such pale skin, they practically pop out of his face. They're intoxicating. I'm hoping against hope he feels the same, because if he's just having a laugh with his friends, then I'm just another hopeless case. He'll be laughing behind my back the moment I look away.

But I don't look away. He stares at me from under dark lashes for longer than I can care to remember. It's probably only been a few minutes, but it feels much longer to me. It feels like an eternity. And it will be another eternity before I look away again.

"Rose?"

It's Caroline who snaps me out of the staring contest. I lose, I guess, because I look away first to meet her large green eyes. She looks like she's swallowing some large rock. I stifle a laugh.

"What are you staring at?" she asks.

"Try _who _is she staring at," Pamela says. She, on the other hand, looks very confident indeed.

"I'm not staring at anyone." I can't lie to either of them, anyways. The words aren't even out of my mouth when I know they'll figure it out.

Taking my lie as a practical '_that guy over there' _they both look around to where I was staring. Scorpius has enough sense to look away when they begin swiveling their heads around. However, since I was staring in the same direction for a good five minutes, they have a good idea who it is.

"Oh. It's _him _again, isn't it?" Caroline asks.

"Who's _him?" _The best I can do is just play innocent.

"You know, stupid Scorpius I'm-Too-Good-For-Anyone Malfoy."

"What about him?"

"Why were you getting all googly-eyed over him?"

"I didn't have _googly-eyes, _Carol. Especially not over him."

"Then why were you two practically having a staring contest?"

Actually, that's exactly what I thought of it to be. What else would it be?

"I dunno. Go ask him."

"Is he bugging you?"

"No, not at this particular moment."

"How is it sharing a dorm with him?"

"We tend to avoid each other."

Well, that's not entirely true. I tend to avoid _him, _but he seems quite fond of running into me.

"Well, it's better than being at each other's throats, I suppose."

"Yep."

Thankfully, Caroline gives up on the subject. Pamela never even took interest in it, thankfully. That's why she's my best friend. She doesn't like things that aren't worth liking.

And this conversation wasn't worth interpreting, was it?

I wasn't getting all _googly-eyed _over him at all.

XX

XX

It comes as a relief to me that, even when things seem unquestionably _different _this year, nothing real between Scorpius and I has changed. He still hates me. I still hate him. Fire like no other runs between us, and we have learned that there is no point in trying to get past it. Maybe it just runs in our blood, but we don't question it.

I could almost feel _happiness _when he called me a weasel the first day back.

Now, it is unmistakably relief that floods through me when harsh words are exchanged. Nothing has changed.

I arrive at the common room portrait. The ugly hag sits, quite awake, as I approach. I can see her mole from almost all the way across the hall….

"Malfoy?"

Because there is Scorpius, standing before the portrait, staring oddly up at it. Maybe it's just me, but I can tell something is different. Why would he stand here like this? Surely he wasn't waiting for _me?_

"What are you doing?" I ask. He still stares up at the portrait as I continue to squint at him.

"Look."

"Look at what?"

"Look at the _picture, _Weasley."

I look and receive a shock. Because there is the ugly hag, although she is significantly less ugly than before. While her mole remains, her eyes are full of what I can only describe as beauty, now a golden color instead of the muddy brown I remember. Her wrinkles remain, yet the scars on her beaten face have disappeared. Was I imagining it? Did she actually _wink at me?_

"What….?" I begin, but can't finish.

"I don't have a clue," Scorpius says. He shakes his head like he doesn't get it, either.

"I'm not imagining it, then?"

He looks over at me for the first time with an annoyed look on his face. "Oh, _no, _I was just standing here waiting for you to come so I could reveal my darkest secret in front of you."

Although his voice is full of sarcasm, I realize that one of us does in fact have to reveal a secret to gain passage. He seems to realize this the same time I do, and sets his face in an expression that practically screams 'no way in hell'.

"Well, it's not going to be me!" I yell. He scoffs.

"Oh, yes, I suppose that's true. You _do _have a more embarrassing past." He places a perfect finger on his chin as if he's contemplating this.

"So what's your secret? That you get manicures daily?"

He draws his finger away as if it's been burned. I smile haughtily at him as he scowls at me.

"No, actually. One time, when I was four, my father accidently showed the Dark Mark on his arm. I thought it was pretty neat, so I took a quill and wrote the symbol on my arm. Father didn't approve."

I laugh loudly. "Oh, what did dearest daddy do to poor baby Scorpius? Tell him 'bad boy'? Not let him on his Firebolt for a week? Make him do a _chore?"_

Scorpius's face turns down in a frown, and I know immediately I've hit a nerve.

"I'm not a spoiled brat, Weasley," he snaps, "despite your impression. Just because I didn't grow up with twenty-something family members at my side doesn't mean I was pampered to death."

The portrait swings open, and he walks in brusquely. I follow after him, hot on his heels.

"Oh? Really, because I was under the impression that _you _have the best racing broom, the best clothes, the best books, the best _everything. _Unless I was just imagining it all?"

"Those aren't from my _father, _Weasley."

"So mummy's the one who pampers you, then? Not dearest dad?"

"My mother hasn't given me anything. Ever."

I seem to have struck something within this boy, and he's hit back. I can't stop these words from either of us. We are now standing in the middle of the warmly lit common room, icy words coming from both of us. This doesn't feel like normal to me. I can't feel the usual douse of fire between us. It's just _cold. _

"Why not? Does she not like that you get manicures or something?"

"She doesn't give a _damn—"_

"—Or does she disapprove of your choice in clothing?"

"—about me!"

We're both fuming. He is so deserving of these words, of this hatred, he is such an egotistic, hot headed, filthy little _bastard—_

"What?"

I whisper the word, and it comes out like a hiss from a teapot. I have only just realized what he's said.

"How can your mother not care about a perfect little child like _you?" _I ask. He refuses to meet my eyes.

"It's none of your damn business, Weasley."

"Oh, excuse me, but you were the one who shouted it at me in the first—"

"I SAID IT DIDN'T FUCKING _MATTER, _ROSE!"

"Well, apparently it does, or you wouldn't have brought it up!"

"If you must know," he begins, and his face is icy cold, "my parents both could care less for me. My father is mad he had to take after _his _father, so stays far away from me so as not to pass it down another generation. My mother….never wanted a child. I get fancy things because we have money, but also to make up for the lack of attention I get from my parents."

I'm struck speechless. This wasn't at all what I was expecting him to say. His parents aren't even a part of his life. His mother doesn't even love him at all.

"You're lucky to be poor, Weasley. At least your parents try to fill the void with love rather than money."

He turns away from me, and I am left to stare at his back for a while. I watch as he makes his way up the staircase to his room, his head held low. I'm not even sure what our argument was about. I just know it was hurtful, and was obviously personal. And suddenly, I feel numb.

But in a strange way, I feel cheated….as if for truth.

XX

I sent Rables over to Lorcan's window, asking him to come and sit with me in the head dorm. He is over in less than a minute, a platter of fresh cookies in tow that he stole from the kitchens on his way. I take his hand and a cookie, and we both sit down by the fire. Just looking at his face is warmth and relief to the tense environment here with Scorpius. We munch on cookies and silence for a while, content with both, with no need for words or talk of why I needed him here. After a good hour of just staring into the fire and at each other, he breaks the silence.

"I hope you're enjoying your time with Malfoy," he says.

I snort. "Like I enjoy my time with dragons, I'll assure you."

"Well his father was a dragon for sure," he says.

"Actually, that's exactly what our conversation was about," I mumble. "He told me that his parents don't really care for him."

I know what Albus would say, or Caroline or Pamela. They would say something along the lines of "Can you blame them?" But Lorcan simply says, "Pity helps nothing, Rose. You can't change what they feel for him."

And those are the only words I need to hear before the weight of the world is lifted off my shoulders. I lean back against his firm chest, pounding with his heartbeat, and am suddenly asleep in the deepest slumber since summer.

XX

Waking up in the morning feels like a slap in the face. I cannot truly remember what words were exchanged within that time period last night. All I know is that, for once, Scorpius showed emotion. I suppose I just had to pick on that fact, just to get under his forever untouched skin.

Will we ever resume our normality?

I know immediately the answer is yes. We have fought thousands of times before; so many times I couldn't possible keep count. They were trivial things, just like last night. And this time won't be any different. We fought. We forgive. We hate. And that's all there is too it.

My bed is very cold. The silken gold offers very little protection against the frigid air, which seems to become increasingly colder with the coming days. Winter will be here before anyone knows it. I can feel it in the air. It's just beginning to show-

Scorpius showed something last night. Usually, the arguments we share are heated and full of malice, but they never inflict pain on either of us. The words we shared last night (I remember not the words, but the feeling they brought. It's like when I look at a childrens book I read when I was young; I don't remember the words, but just seeing the book reminds me of happiness and warm nights under the covers) were frozen with true emotions. And it's not the fact that the words were below the belt; there have been times before when the remarks we said brought tears to my eyes. The whole connection between us was just inflicting so much more. He finally showed sadness….and I felt terrible sympathy for him. Even guilt….

"What are we doing?" I whisper to myself. Scorpius is an enemy, and he always has been. Just because we are _pretending _to be nice to one another, just because we're _trying _to manipulate each other with adoration, doesn't mean that anything has changed between us.

And, even though I don't want to admit it, trying to be in love would spite passion rather than sadness, right?

If I am 'in love' on the outside, it doesn't mean anything has to change on the inside.

Right?

_You can see me playing childish games. They disgust me. I play them with myself, trying to deny the truth for as long as I can play pretend with myself. But then I must realize: I must pretend for Scorpius. I am not trying to deceive myself, because I don't _want _to be kind to this boy. I just _have _to. And besides….being kind never worked out between us before. Why should it be different now?_

_But you know the answer. Unfortunately, so do I. _

_Everything is different now._

XX

A week later without incident, I go to my first lesson, not bothering with breakfast.

"Hi, Rosie!" Caroline calls out from behind me. I turn to see her and Pamela walking towards me, Pamela drifting a bit to the left. Sure enough, there's Evan Longbottom. Pamela's been in love with him for years.

"Hi guys!" I call back, feigning enthusiasm.

"Ooh, guess who I saw in the hall?" she says. I raise my eyebrow in question, though my mind is elsewhere. "Malfoy, and he looks horrible!"

"Yeah? What's wrong with him?" Hmm. Maybe I responded a bit too quickly, because Pamela giving me a knowing look. I brush her off. I haven't really looked at Malfoy since our fight last week, only just occasionally passing him in the hallways.

"I dunno. He looks all mopey and pale, though. A lot gloomier than his usual haughty self."

"He kind of sneered at us, too. For some reason," Pamela cuts in, but I know she knows. She mouths 'talk to me later' behind Caroline's back, and I nod. It'll be nice to talk to her without the gossip queen around.

"That's odd. Maybe he's just having an off day?" I ask. Caroline taps on my shoulder just as the doors of the classroom open. I turn around to see a somber Lily Potter running towards us, out of breath and agitated.

"Geez, Rose! You could at least be a little easier to find!" she shouts. A few people turn their heads so I tell her to shush. She huffs at me.

"Why'd you come to get me, Lily? Why not later?" I ask. She rolls her eyes.

"Hugo said it was important that you know that your parents are furious at you." She pauses to eye someone who came a little too close to her, and I roll my eyes. "Because you didn't tell them that you're a champion."

I inwardly tense. "Yeah, well, they never told me about the championship, so why should I tell them I'm a champion? It seems fair to me."

Lily seems to know that I'm freaked, because she pats my shoulder and says, "Rosie, don't hide things like this." Whether she's talking about my fear or the fact that I didn't tell my parents, I have no clue. "Write them at break and I'm sure you'll get a letter by tonight."

She turns to leave with a final swish of her hair. Just as she's about to turn the corner, she shouts over her shoulder, "Beware of howlers!" then disappears.

"Shit," I say, walking into the classroom with Pamela, who had enough grace to wait for me. " I completely forgot to write to them…. Or anyone at all, for that matter. How important do you think it is to them?"

"Rose," Pamela sighs, "your family all works at the Ministry. Your father and uncle and who knows who else probably helped orchestrate the whole thing. Your mum probably came up with the idea. I think they'd be _kind of _excited that their daughter made champion."

We take a seat at a table with Lorcan, Caroline, and Albus. I try and refrain from biting my nails in worry. "So, do you think they'd have freaked out about this more than they freaked about the Head Girl badge?"

Pamela pulls out her wand from behind her ear and twirls it in her fingers. After a while, she turns to me and smiles lightly. "They probably forgot all about your badge after hearing this news, Rosie."

Despite the horror I feel at the possible anger my dad is holding inside him (probably reserved, as Lily said, for a howler), Pamela has cheered me up considerably. She always seems to know what to say when I'm worried.

It's halfway through a very interesting lesson about the magical properties of prime numbers (the Arithmacy teacher, Professor Huggins, is being unusually lively for such an old man), I realize what my parents also might have heard in recent months.

I was sharing a common room with Scorpius Malfoy. And they _would not _be happy.


	5. Chapter 5

XX

I decide (despite the protest of my growling stomach) to skip lunch. Having not had any breakfast either, I tell myself that I will gorge during dinner to make up for it. My stomach seems to take no solace in that thought. It growls and growls, and I feel slightly sick as nerves begin to add to the feeling.

What will my parents say? I've thought about them, sure, but my mind has been so full of things I've been too preoccupied to even think of writing to them. I suppose being champion would be a big deal to them…. They probably designed some of the competition, after all.

I go up to the owlry to write the letter. I like the smell; it's musty, despite the owl droppings, and smells distinctly like it has just rained. It calms me slightly, but not enough. My hands are shaking as I sit down to write the letter.

I manage to write down 'Dear Mum and Dad,' before there is a thumping on the stairs. It seems someone else thought it was a good idea to come up at this time, too….. Although they probably have a nice full stomach. I feel slightly aggravated. I can't exactly say why.

A boy in my year appears in the doorway. It's Jomo Haviar, one of Al's best friends. Al has always suggested we get together, and he isn't the only one. Lots of people claim we'd be the perfect couple. Like me, Jomo has dark red hair that looks brown on occasion. We're both almost the same shade of dark olive. He has a spattering of large dark freckles across the bridge of his nose. He could be a Weasley if he weren't so dark….. But, I suppose I'm just as dark, and I'm still a Weasley. He always reminds me that I'm an outcast among the red-haired freckled beings of my cousin. It might be why I never took much of an interest in him.

"Howdy, Rosie," he says. He flashes me a brilliant white smile. Unlike me, he's in Slytherin, and just about as sly as you can get. He seems to never have taken an interest in me, likewise.

"Hi Jomo," I say back. He takes his letter and picks out a dark brown school owl. Once it's set off, he plunks himself beside me with a smirk. I snort at him.

"I just figured you'd want some company," he says. He looks by my side and his eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. "Holy crow, Weasley! Is that owl yours?"

I look by my side. Sure enough, there's Rabbles, clicking his golden beak with indignation. I didn't notice him until now, but he looks a lot fatter than when I last saw him . "Hogwart's rats suiting you well, Rabs?"

I stroke his head, much to the astonishment of Jomo.

"Is he really yours?" he asks. I nod happily. Rabbles is, after all, stunning.

"Wow. That's a right special bird you have there, Weasley."

I nod again, but he doesn't say anything else. I stroke Rabbles for a while, which calms me considerably. Its only when Rabbles closes his golden eyes in contentment that I realize I have an unwritten letter in front of me.

"Whatcha writin'?" Jomo asks.

"A letter."

"No way!"

I laugh. "Yeah, my parents are mad that I never told them I was a champion."

"Hm. Bit of a big thing to let slip, eh?"

"I don't need reminding."

I sigh deeply. This whole thing is a lot more trouble than it's worth. I dip my quill and begin writing, forgetting that Jomo is reading over my shoulder. I suppose I must have been a little self conscious, though, because when I read it through the letter includes a lot less 'sorrys' than it should.

This is what it says:

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_I'm sorry I didn't write. I suppose that was bad in itself, but you must be really angry that I never told you about me being champion. This year's been too busy to write much, but even now there's not much to say. I'm champion. So is Anna Macmillan, Lorcan, and Scorpius Malfoy. I don't know what the first task is. I'm guessing you do, though…. Any chance you'll tell me? I know you'll say it's an 'unfair advantage', but it's only fair as it seems the Weasley/Potter family were the only ones who didn't know that there was even going to be a tournament. So….could you tell me? I can keep a secret!_

_No, dad, I don't have a boyfriend. And yes, mum, I'm excelling in all my classes. We have a transfiguration project where we will learn how to transform into animals. But I'm assuming you already know this. Mum probably helped invent the spell._

_I really don't see how you two could be angry. I mean, sure, I didn't tell you, but you knew already! There's not much more information that I can offer. Despite the fact that I'm scared senseless. But I suppose you could have guessed that, as Uncle Harry was among the 'four' champions during your time at school. Tell him I'll happily take tips. Or am I not allowed to even ask questions involving anything anymore?_

_Anyways, love you both, as always,_

_Rose_

_P.S. Scorpius is Head Boy._

_P.P.S. There is absolutely no need to go over sexual precautions in your next letter, as there is no chance of me ever wanting a ferret._

"Since when was Malfoy a ferret?" Jomo asks. I asked him to read my letter and see how it sounded, although he'd probably read it all while I was writing it.

"Since my parents and uncle saw Malfoy Senior turn into one," I reply. The image of a miniature Draco Malfoy turning into a ferret always makes me laugh. It seems too good to be true.

"So how is it?" I ask again.

"Fine, I guess. I don't see how they could be mad either." But there is just a hint of sarcasm in his voice when he says it.

Jomo shakes his head like a dog and stands. He waves goodbye to me and heads down the stairs. I stare after him for a while before I turn to Rabbles and pat him awake. I tie the letter to his leg and send him away. I can't seem to clear my head, even long after the golden bird has gone from the horizon. I make my way to the charms classroom, trying to clear my thoughts, but with no success.

I seem to me more muddled than usual as of late.

XX

Two days later, the reply to my letter comes via the morning route.

_Dear Rose,_

My hand, which had been previously occupied by petting Rabbles, halts. No 'Rosie' means not a nice letter.

_We are both extremely disappointed in you for not writing to us. We heard garbled versions of the events that passed at Hogwart's, such as you being selected for the championship, and the new Transfiguration project (which I took no part in inventing a spell for). But we would have much rather heard it from you. I'm sorry to say that your father even refuses to gloat at work, which is a sure sign that he is very, very upset. _

I skim over the next three paragraphs, which include mostly the certain things I could have done to ensure that they were informed. _At least show some pride in being selected! _comes up multiple times.

_Your father, among other things, just about fell off his chair when he learned that Scorpius Malfoy was your fellow Head. Even if you weren't proud of it, you could have at least told us! While I won't give you any relationship warnings, I want to tell you now that a Malfoy is not to be trusted. While they may have changed for the better, you have no idea was Draco Malfoy might be feeding that boy. Just be warned, Rose. His son is probably as sly as the snake himself._

_I can't tell you anything about the championship. But Harry is happy to give you some advice, and a letter from him should be coming along sometime soon. _

_We both love you very much, Rosie. Just please, please write more._

_Lots of love,_

_Mum (and dad)_

Oddly, I felt nothing towards the letter. I was too full of busywork and thoughts to really care. They were disappointed, but it was not the first time. I hadn't told them something. It's not like I failed a class. If nothing else, the letter took a large weight off my shoulders.

"Geez, Rosie," Al says as he reads the letter over my shoulder. "Well, at least they didn't send a howler."

"Oh, I'm sure Dad was considering it," I say.

"No," Hugo butts in, "he was probably going to send one, but mum held him down with some kind of superhuman chains."

We laugh. "He's probably just mad that I live in the same room as Scorpius."

"What, do you guys sleep together or something?" Al snorts. He can be so immature.

"No! And that's the problem; we hardly even see each other! I have no idea what mum and dad hate him so much for, but I don't really give a damn."

"You hate him too, though, right?" Hugo asks. He looks very curious.

"I—of course! But that's because he's infuriating, not because he has a bad reputation—"

"—But he has that, too," Al cuts in.

"Yeah, that's all my parents base the hate on. He could be a freaking saint, but that doesn't matter to them!"

"I suppose."

"He's the son of Draco Malfoy, grandson of Lucius Malfoy, so he's automatically an evil little thing!"

"Geez Rosie, don't start defending the guy. He's still evil," Hugo says. I calm myself.

I guess this whole pretending to like him has already caught up with me. "Well, I'm just sick of my parents involvement up to this point. I'll be happy when I finally get a flat in London, far away from them."

"Yeah, but you'll see mum and dad at the Ministry, won't you?" Al asks. I sigh at his ignorance on the subject.

"Well, I'll be working for the Unspeakables, won't I? I'll never see them."

Last year I decided it was my ambition to become an Unspeakable. I applied in good spirits, as my Uncle Percy (however rude) was Secretary to the Minister and handled all the applications for the department. I was not disappointed. I got the job, and I was to report to the Ministry right after summer.

Most of my family is glad that I didn't turn out to work in the Weasley joke shop, like most of my cousins increasingly become interested in. While my mum would have liked me to be in her department, she's happy nonetheless. My dad….well, he wouldn't give a damn if I was Hagrid's slug keeper, so long as I was happy.

I found it slightly odd that my dad didn't care for my happiness now. I was fine. I wasn't involved with Scorpius. And even if I was with him, it would probably be him who accepted it first. Or, so I think it would. My dad usually puts my happiness first. But could old prejudice stand in the way of that?

I finish my breakfast in silence. I let Rabbles (who has been sitting here the whole time munching on toast) finish up, then I pat him goodbye. A few people watch him in glee as he flies out, glittering in the morning sun.

Maybe the letter has taken a load off my shoulders. Maybe it's just added to my stress. Whatever it's done, it is immediately pushed to the very back of my mind as I depart. I have so much homework I can hardly breathe. I may drown in all the work.

XX

While other lessons are continuing to grow ever more gruesome in terms of our workload, I can't help but feel that our Transfiguration project is a lot more trouble than it's worth. I mean, sure, I guess it will be fun to turn into an animal. I've always thought that would be one of the cooler advantages of being a witch. But really, whenever I'm not working on homework from other classes, I'm looking up animals and their characteristics in tattered old books that no one ever used until now.

Even worse than this is the looming prospect of the upcoming task. Even if it isn't the fear of dying that courses through me night and day, it's the fear of what this all means. For me, winning this championship means everything. I want to win. I want to come out of this a winner, and prove to myself that I am one.

It's no surprise that I have uttered a little more than five words to anyone in these past two months. They eventually learn not to bother me, assuming this is another one of 'those years' when I do nothing but study. Most of them, from previous years, know that I can't take any more than necessary. If my busy work schedule is bothered by my social life, I usually break down. And with the first task only five days away, I am very near breaking down.

For now, my work is over with. I'm glad it's Sunday. Despite the coldness in the air that is associated with the ominous prospect of autumn, the warm fire in the hearth of the common room is doing wonders for my nerves. I might just sleep here, watching the twinkling embers as they die away slowly into the night…

"Skipping out on your homework, eh?" comes a voice. I don't need to turn around to know it's Scorpius, currently the bane of my existence. Despite the raging argument we had, I think we're both determined for everything to go back to normal. It helps in a way, because the burning hatred between us is back, however dwindled it may be.

I've convinced myself that the whole cold spell we had was due to our pretend 'relationship'. Playing games must affect us in some way, right?

"If you must know," I snap, irritated that he interrupt such a peaceful moment. "I finished it all. How about you? Have you finished all your work?"

The question was meant to be accusatory, but it comes out friendlier than I wanted. He seems to take this as an invitation and comes to sit beside me on the leather couch, nearly crushing my feet in the process.

"I finished it yesterday," he says, and his voice is too affable for my liking. "If you must know."

I want to sneer at him, but I don't really want him to ruin my perfect moment. Maybe if I just let him be friendly I can relax for a bit.

"So," he begins, ignoring my back to him, "have you any idea what the first task is?"

"No," I answer coldly.

"Me either. My father refuses to tell me what it is."

Daddy not giving little Scorpius what he wants? Wow. That's a shocker. I am almost tempted to say this aloud, but I stop myself just in time. Uncle Harry wrote a short letter of advice to me last month; barely anything, really, but it said that with each task I would be worried and afraid, but I mustn't let the nerves take over my mind. He said to keep focused, and rely on friends. But really I thought it is bogus.

"I hope it's not a dragon," he says, with true fear (from what I can tell) in his voice. "I hate dragons."

"Considering your father's name means 'dragon', you have good reason to," I joke. I can't really help it, I suppose.

"Yes well," he sighs sarcastically, "That's one reason. But you can't forget the scaly hides and fire breath."

"My, my. I never thought you'd be afraid of anything!"

"Ah, well however brave and amazing I am, Rose, you must remember even I have to be a normal wizard on occasion."

I scoff, barely able to contain my disbelieving tone. "I can't imagine you as a normal wizard, Scorpius. You're just too amazing."

He ignores my voice, which is practically dripping with sarcasm. "Well, my family thinks the same. I suppose I have to live up to so much, so I'm naturally amazing." He smiles haughtily at me.

I snort in laughter.

I'm about to say something, maybe even get into a discussion about parents and fathers, but I stop myself. Somehow, this doesn't feel right to me. First I try and not hate him, and now I'm telling myself to stop being friendly? I don't want to be either right now. Something about this, right now, feels unwelcoming. Plus I don't really like the prospect of 'family talk' ever since the night we fought about just that.

"I'm going to go take a bath," I say. I don't really want to leave my warm place by the fire, but I need to think alone for a while. Scorpius has quite suddenly become more than an unwelcome figure in this room… It's something I can't really explain.

He nods at me. I catch a hint of regret in his eyes, but he covers it almost immediately when he looks back at the fire. Why would he want me here, anyways? Oh yeah. That's right. We're trying to manipulate each other into losing this whole tournament thing. Bugger.

I trudge up the marble staircase into the glorious white bathroom. Now that I think about it, a bath does sound nice. I turn on three faucets, which I know to be roses, cinnamon, and spice. An odd combination, but I love the smell it creates. I inhale deeply as I strip down and prepare to dive in.

For a moment I just look at the water. For longer than I care to remember, I have loved swimming more than anything. While Quidditch is a close second, it can't beat the feeling that swimming gives me. Almost like flying, but without a stick beneath you. I used to perform bubblehead charms before I was even aloud a wand and swim in the pond in our backyard. When my mother found out, she just about had a stroke. But I suppose I could care less. There is nothing more blissful than swimming in a cool, clean pool, completely alone and at peace.

I dive into the blistering hot water and sigh. I already feel rejuvenated. Instead of sorting out my problems, I swim underwater until I am forced to come up for breath again. Feeling like I did when I was younger, I climb from the water and dive in, again and again until I am too tired to do it anymore. Maybe I'm not really as young as I used to be. I sigh and sit along the side of the bath, breathing in the scents and watching the glistening bubbles as they slowly die away…

When I wake up, the bubbles have turned to a smoky film on top of the water, and I am floating on my back in the middle of the pool. Huh. Maybe the water is magical and doesn't allow you to sink? The water is still warm and wonderful. I just might stay in here for the night… But I guess the magical qualities will die off eventually. I ponder this as I get out of the water and grab a soft white towel from the shelves, humming happily to myself.

I am about to comb out my hair in the mirror when I see something reflected behind me. I am so completely shocked to see Scorpius standing by the door, I yelp and jump backwards into the water again. What the _hell _is he doing in here? Coming to spy on me?

Maybe, if I stay under long enough he will think I've died and leave me. But no. I am so furious all I manage to do is come up to the surface and splutter indignantly for almost a minute before he stops me.

"I thought you died," he says. And, to my shock and delight, I can see his pale cheeks pinking at my outrage. He has the shame to avert his eyes from the water, even though I am clinging the sopping wet towel around me anyways.

"You didn't have to come in and check!" I scream. "You could have at least knocked!"

"I did!" he replies, looking at me directly. "I knocked at least four times, but there was no response! Sorry for wanting to make sure you were okay!"

This comment hits me. Maybe he's just playing, but he really does sound like he sincerely cares about me. This could all be another part of his games. It would be a perfect opportunity to act hero. After all, he was the one who started this whole thing…maybe he's just a lot more serious about it than I am. I am so convinced this is the reason, I decide to play back.

"Really?" I whisper. Without thinking, I rise from the water with my towel wrapped tightly around me. I take three steps towards him, so that now there is only a good two feet between us. "That was very sweet of you."

He seems to regain his usual nerve at this. His eyes flicker to life and his blush dies away. He smirks and says, "Yes, and it was very sweet of you to be standing in full view when I entered."

He grins even wider, like he's won something, but I only stare. I force the blush that is threatening to rise away, because I have to play this exactly right.

"How much did you see?"

"Just the entire upper half of your body."

"Oh?" He must have come in when I was standing behind the divider, grabbing a towel. I _almost _yelp at his comment, but manage to hold it in. Scorpius saw me half naked? That was _definitely _not something I intended to happen this year. Or ever.

"You know, you should go around like that more often."

"Oh?" Shit. Think of something smart to say _right now._

"Yes, you should. You've got to stop hiding behind those baggy robes. They do nothing to add to your appearance."

"And I'm supposed to take fashion advice from the biggest man whore in the school?"

There we go. There's the smartass girl I know.

However, he merely grins. Not a great sign.

"Well," he says, looking me up and down. I feel naked under his gaze, which I practically am. "If you must know, if I am a man whore, you have to have the nicest body out of all the girls I've ever seen."

"Oh, so you have x-ray vision now?" I snap. "It's not really that hard. Most of those girls hardly wear any clothes, anyways."

"You were the one who suggested I was a man prostitute."

"You don't have to be a whore to know that almost every girl is a slut."

We're whispering now. The fire between us is crackling with electricity, and I can almost feel it running in my veins, making my hair stand on end. There is a little more than three inches between us. If I were to close this distance, would he kiss me? I'd probably bite him.

"_You_ aren't," he whispers dramatically low, "And that just makes me want you more."

I splutter stupidly. This conversation has veered dramatically off track. Are we still playing a game? Because if we are, this fire between us feels very real.

"Why would you want me?"

His eyes widen in disbelief. "Rose, haven't you noticed the way the guys look at you? You're unreachable. Every guy in this school would give their wand to have you." He pauses, somehow moving closer. "Including me."

So he does want me. And I have absolutely no idea what I want. My mind is reeling at the thought of kissing him, my body burning from the flames, my lips itching at the prospect of meeting another. Do I want this? If I weren't pretending to be seductive and flirtatious, would I want to kiss Scorpius? I can't decipher the answer in my buzz of thoughts, but I know the answer to the question in dreamland. But this is all pretend… I have to keep reminding myself of that.

"You better wish harder, then," I whisper. He is nearing. Slowly, as if time has slowed us to a standstill, I fight against the force of gravity between us. This is just a game! There is no reality here, no fire of passion, just hatred! I almost feel the hatred rise up at this, as if outraged at what we're about to do. It licks my lips and encloses my body in the last moments before we close on each other.

But we do not close our skin. Somehow, kissing between us is so forbidden it's almost dangerous. There is no possibility, no matter how much we both want it. And I want it badly. I turn my head so our lips are breathing into the other's ear, and it's almost like kissing in itself. Oh, this inferno that surrounds us is nothing, _nothing, _compared to this. It's like breathing white flames, it hurts so badly.

Delicious, these flames. Like their forcing my sweet-smelling bath water to ferment between our ferociously beating hearts. Oh, the feral quality of this moment. It's like we're both fighting for a dominance that neither of us will ever obtain. All of this is in no movements, in no words, in no contact, simply breaths. My mind is going fuzzy with the thoughts of the boy before me, his sugar-coated lips, fumes and flames rising beneath us. Is this what dying feels like? Because I don't think I would mind so much if I died, right now, and burst into ashes among this inferno.

We go on and on and on with nothing. Our bodies never touch, our hands never collide, as if we know this would be our breaking point. The only thing that separates us from crossing the line is the looming tomorrow….what this will bring, what it will change. What it would do if our bodies truly connected. But now, my mind is blank except for this moment.

"Rose," he whines. It really is a whine. Like he's begging for more, begging to stop, begging to go until the end of it all. Before I can even process that name, coming from his lips, I am running down the stairs with my soggy towel and running back up them to my room. I throw open the balcony, letting the cold night air wash over my face, forcing my mind to clear and the fire to quell.

"What the _hell?" _I whisper. I am terrified at what I have just done. That was not a game. That was not dreamland. That was real, and Scorpius and I both know it. Even if he's never liked me, even if this is and always will be a game to him, he'll never be able to deny the passion that flowed in a current between us just moments ago.

I have never felt anything like that before.

And it is this thought that scares me the most.

If I am to come out of this a winner, conquer the rest and live my life a winner, no matter what, then I cannot let him win this game between us. Right now, I can't figure out what winning this competition purely between us will accomplish, but I know I have to win it. I have to win this tournament, more than anything, I have to beat him.

So, come morning, I will find if I can pretend a little longer.

As I crawl into bed an hour later, I can't help but wonder if I can stand to pretend any longer.

This fire may burn me down before I can even see the warning smoke.

XX

When I wake up in the morning, I am enveloped in the smell of cinnamon and roses. I choke on it, inhaling the floral sweetness of roses and the fiery spice of cinnamon in burning breaths. They slip and slide through my throat like slime, and they taste so harsh and wrong on my tongue. This is what was between me and him last night. This, and a sodden towel that now lies on my floor with a water stain around it. I will never be able to smell these things and not be reminded of what happened last night.

"Rose?" comes a voice at my door. I guess my coughing fit has alarmed him, because he comes right in without even knocking once.

"So, do you just think knocking is above you or something?" I bark. "Because I'm beginning to think that you didn't even knock last night."

"Yeah, well," he sighs sarcastically, "I never had to knock before; I don't see why I should now."

His words boil in me, an anger I cannot suppress, so I get out of bed. I get out of bed and I slap him, fury in my eyes. "I can't _believe _you dared to do what you did last night."

He looks slightly shocked at the slap, but he recovers quickly. "In case you forgot, you were the one that brought us so _close."_

"In case you forgot, you're the one who barged in and saw me naked!" I yell. My back is pressed up against the wall, Scorpius before me, his eyes angry and passionate, but at the same time hurt.

"I was _worried!" _he yells. "If you didn't flirt so heavily, nothing would have happened!"

"Nothing did happen!" I yell in denial. I so want it to be that way, but even I know it's not true.

He clenches his teeth closed, the fury in his eyes lighting up in indignation. "You can _pretend _you hate me, Rose. But you can't _pretend _you didn't feel anything last night. Whatever happened was _real, _and it has consequences, whether you like it or not."

Maybe he just doesn't want me to deny that there was something there. He may want me to feel something because he felt something himself. But the more likely reason is that he wants me to fall for him and forget the real competition. That's the consequence I'm facing, losing, not that I may fall for him irreversibly.

"I'm not the only one who has consequences, Scorpius," I whisper. As I turn to go, heading out the door to the bathroom, I say over my shoulder in one last hope of making him fail, "You felt it, too."

XX


	6. Chapter 6

_This fire rising through my being  
Burning _

_I'm not used to seeing you_

I can feel you all around me  
Thickening the air I'm breathing  
Holding on to what I'm feeling  
Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me  
And you whisper you love me  
And I begin to fade  
Into our secret place

Take my hand  
I give it to you  
Now you own me  
All I am

_You said you would never leave me  
I believe you_

-Flyleaf, All Around Me

**I thought those lyrics fit rather well. I hope all of my wonderful (and few) reviewers have enjoyed the story so far. I would like to thank my wonderful editor, xakemii, who has been an amazing editor and great friend. Unfortunately, something has come up and she won't be able to do my edits, so from here on out it's just my eyes until I can find someone to replace her. If any of my readers are willing to edit, please PM me. If not, con-crit is greatly appreciated!**

**Now onto—Chapter Six!**

**XX**

"Rose," Al says matter-of-factly after a few moments of silence, "you look like you died."

"Tell me about it, Al," I say. The great hall is buzzing with excitement, as the first task is tomorrow morning. Every day, I have been growing increasingly more agitated and running on littler and littler sleep. Lorcan places his hand on mine from across the table, squeezing it reassuringly. I smile a little at him. At least I know he understands.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you being serious right now?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, the first task can't be scaring you that badly, can it?"

"It's not that I'm scared…. I just want to know what I have to do."

"Well, bravery in the face of the unknown is one of Gryffindor's qualities. So, that would be why they never told you," Lorcan cuts in from across the table.

"But what if I completely fail the task? Then I won't really be a true Gryffindor."

"Yeah, you will, Rose. You'll just be more of a nerdy Ravenclaw after that." Al smiles at his own joke.

It's meant jokingly, but I fall silent after this comment. What if I really do lose this task? It is Gryffindor's, after all. If I was really meant to be in Ravenclaw….

It's been a few years since I considered the happenings during my sorting. I remember being insanely nervous, remembering my dad's words about being disinherited if I was in Slytherin, and wondering if I really would be put in Ravenclaw. Where you were placed in the houses was a lot less important now than it was twenty years ago, but it still gave me chills to think of my father's reaction if I was placed in any house except Gryffindor.

When the hat was placed on my head, I immediately felt it flinch and say, "_Another _Weasley, eh?" At first I thought this was a bad thing, but it seemed amused when it said the words. "You're tricky, you are. Very clever, I see. Ambition like no other. Seeking acceptance. Yes, you would do fine in Gryffindor."

I sighed with relief at this. But the hat wasn't done yet. "Oh, but you are very tricky, you are. Ravenclaw would help you on your path to brilliance."

If this was not enough to scare me, it then said something even worse. "Oh? What's this? A slight hint of cunning, I sense. You could do great things in Slytherin…."

I chant 'not Slytherin' in my head until the hat finally gives in my puts me in Gryffindor, just as Uncle Harry did when he was sorted. Just this small notion that I have some Slytherin quality in me scared me out of my wits. I haven't thought about this for years….

"I wouldn't mind having you in Ravenclaw," Lorcan says kindly. I smile at him. At least he doesn't determine my fate on whether I win or not.

I am determined not to ponder what the first task holds for the remainder of the day. I busy myself in the small amount of work the teachers give us, due to the fact that they don't want to overload us with the task just a day away. Still, it is this that enables me to keep my mind clear and my head cool. I don't want to lose it over this task. There are still three more tasks after this, and I have to win at least two of them.

I catch some of the teacher's giving me pity looks, or sometimes even coming up to me to wish me luck. Do they know what I will have to face? If they do, none of them mention it. I assume it won't be life threatening, because none of them are making bets on my life yet.

"Rose," Professor Haas calls after class one day, "can I speak with you?"

I tell Pamela that I will meet up with her at dinner. She nods and leaves without another word. I can't help but wish she would stay.

"Yes, Professor?" I say. She has never looked more intimidating, even when she gives a warm smile.

"The Headmistress would like to talk with you tonight. Pass this information onto Scorpius, if you will. I will tell Anna and Lorcan myself." I turn to leave, but she puts a small hand on my shoulder. "Good luck, Rose."

I walk out of the room with my heart pounding in my chest. Will I finally know what the first task is tonight? I am so preoccupied with this thought I barely notice my feet carrying me up to my room, ignoring my growling stomach.

"Rose?"

I look up from watching my feet. Scorpius is just coming out of the portrait hole (the portrait which, to my amazement, has been completely ridden of all her ugly scratches, even if she's still quite ugly). He looks surprised to see me up here, as I usually never lounge about in places where I'm likely to meet him. And this is one of those places. I brush past him, seriously considering not telling him about the meeting tonight.

"No dinner for you, huh?" he asks. I walk straight into the common room and plunk myself down on the couch. I don't think I have the energy to walk up to my room right now, even if it means avoiding him.

After a few minutes, Scorpius comes back in and sits beside me. It seems he isn't hungry, either.

"What's up?" he asks, seeing my face. "Did someone die?"

"No, you ass," I say. Because I can't help it. He is being so annoyingly nice, so friendly, it's sickening me. I'm beginning to think that the fire between us may just die out after all.

"No need to be a bitch, Weasley," he huffs. Now he is back to his usual haughty demeanor, and I love it. I turn to him and give him a sarcastic smile.

"The Headmistress wants to see us tonight," I say, "about the task."

He looks at me strangely for a while, then says, "So, is this why you were cursing at me?"

I laugh a little. This hatred, this passion, is just about the only thing I can deal with for now. In fact, it's the only thing I want to deal with.

"No. I'm just in a bad mood."

"Is it because of me?"

"No. Why would it be because of you?"

"You called me an ass, and you're being—"

"No, no. It's not your fault. I'm the one being the ass."

"It's okay."

And in what could only be about fifty words out of our mouths, this politeness in seeping into our voices and locking into our lungs. We breathe it in the air. It sits there and quivers, and I know what has to happen next.

_Have you ever predicted something even before you knew what you were doing in the _current _moment? It's like you see this vision, and you live in this vision, and you don't even process that you are silently leading yourself to that future. I saw my next move. I saw _our _next move. Because these polite tones and kind words were unbearable, like raw and peeling flesh that we were desperate to get rid of. And how do we get rid of repulsive scabs, you ask? We burn them._

We must either fight, light the fire between us, and let it burn us in immeasurable hatred. Or we must kiss and touch, and fall into what can only be an endless abyss of passion, irrevocable flames, and absolutely no turning back. The former will hurt, like it always does, burning for a while and then falling into just another scar. But the latter will light an inferno so great, it will burn us for years. If this is even real. I may not know if our 'passion' for each other isn't just a false pretense, but I know our hatred has always been real.

So I light the flame, the true flame, and what follows is painful.

"So your dad never told you about the task, then?" My voice is foul and uncalled for. Even though my words aren't rude, they bring up memories neither of us want to remember.

He turns to leave in a flurry of robes. I grab his arm before he can get far, and I am vaguely aware that I am being very, very cruel. I want to watch this boy suffer. Why? I can only say it's because I would rather harm him than harm myself by falling for him. I can tell that he feels weak beneath my hand. His muscles quiver in a cauldron of emotions.

"So you aren't such a spoiled boy, after all?" My words are so full of venom I can feel it in burning my throat.

He doesn't respond. His eyes speak for themselves.

"I _hate _you."

"YOU WERE THE ONE WHO WANTED TO BE MY FRIEND AT THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR, MALFOY!"

I am shaking worse than him. I am _trembling, _and the combined quaking between us makes me feel like there's an earthquake going on around us. I am still gripping his arm as tight as I can. I want him to fucking _bleed. _

"Yeah, well, you shot that down, didn't you?"

"Why can't you just feel a fucking _emotion _for once?"

"I'm full of them!"

"No, you're not! You're a rock, Malfoy! YOU'RE A FREAKING ROCK!"

Breath upon bated breath. There is electricity crackling in the air, and it's not the good kind.

"So, if I told you I hated you, that's not an emotion, is it?"

"That's all you ever feel! Hatred! That you're just too damn _good _for anyone!"

"So, if I told you I was fucking head over heels in _love _with you, you wouldn't believe it?"

We are such children, screaming like this. Maybe if we whisper in secret tones we will sound more mature. But screaming at a face feels _so much better _than screaming into a pillow. I don't want to stop. And I won't.

"I'll _never _believe it! You've never shown a fucking emotion in your pathetic _life, _Scorpius."

"Fine. Don't believe it! That's your stupid problem, _Rose! _You're too fucking self-centered to trust _anyone!"_

"I trust everyone! I just don't trust you!"

"No? Well, you believe me when I tell you I hate you!"

"Because you practically _overflow _with the emotion!"

"Yeah, well you might want to learn the truth before you go believing things!"

He yanks his arm away from my trembling hand. My ears are ringing. I feel so _high _right now, like nothing could ever touch me. Not a word of insults has hit me, yet he is wounded from my words. He deserves all of it. Every hateful word, this cold, cold moment between us…..everything. He deserves to know only hatred. He fucking deserves _all _of it.

As he mounts his staircase I see it. The welt on his arm, in the shape of my hand, dripping blood.

I reach the bathroom just in time. I throw myself into the sink, vomiting, and I think that even this cannot hurt me. It's just me pumped up. There is too much adrenaline in my system, and my body is trying to get rid of it.

I think this for a moment. But then, I realize with a gagging sob, my body cannot rid itself of this sudden onslaught of emotions.

I can't remember his words at all, but I know what hurt they bring.

I cry all through the night for both my words and his.

XX

"Rose!"

"Rose, goddammit, wake up!"

"You'll miss the first day!"

"Fuck, Weasley, you sleep like a rock."

Cold water splashes violently over my face. I snap up and scream loudly, opening my eyes to find Scorpius standing at my bedside, wand pointed, looking annoyed.

"What the _hell?"_ I yell.

I jump up out of bed, about to punch every inch of his godforsaken face, before I realize he is not even reacting. His face is passive. His eyes hollow. Somehow, it looks as if he could care less if I beat him up.

"What?" I ask, annoyed. I _want _him to react. I'm soaked and late, and all he can do is stand there and look forlorn. This is not the Malfoy I know.

This is not the Scorpius I want.

I move backwards into the bed, pulling the sheets up to my neck. I shiver under both his long gaze and the cool air around me.

"Out," I say quietly, pointing a trembling hand at the door. He turns and leaves easily, and I somehow manage to make the door slam behind him, even though my wand is nowhere near me….

Our argument last night was terrible. But we've fought worse than that before, despite that one being close to the worst. He should be fine with it all. Unless…. Well, unless he's just trying to get my pity, to try and make me do what we did two nights ago.

Oh, and on top of that, the task is today. This _morning, _actually. I'm glad he woke me up, but furious at his tactics. I don't even want to face him. My hate for him is passionately renewed after last night's argument…. But with this morning I now feel something different. A longing, not to apologize, but to tell him I didn't mean what I said. That I am sorry, and I _want _to do again what we did two nights ago.

As I dress, I try and remember Professor McGonagall's instructions. She said that we would not be facing anything life threatening, but we will be fighting an 'inner battle'. Whatever that means, I had no time to think of. Between keeping my distance from Scorpius and trying to remember the instructions and size up my competition and figure out what I'm going to do if I _do _face a dragon (because this is supposed to be 'bravery in the face of the unknown' and if the Professor lies then it's unknown, right?), I have no time to think about what the hell an 'inner battle' means.

I dress in comfortable pants and a red shirt, symbolizing Gryffindor. This is his task. And if I don't win this, what will it mean?

**XX**

**I'd like to apologize for this..um…well, this very, very horrible chapter. It's cliché and overthetop, I know. But to make up for it, tomorrow I'll post the next chapter!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I really love the reviews, guys. Keep them coming! Thankfully, I now have a **_**new **_**fabulous editor, Iforever4, who has been more than awesome with the edits and has gone above and beyond helping me out. She's also a great fan, so props for her!**

**Now, on with the story, and on with…(drum roll please)…. The First Task!**

XX

Down in the Great Hall, I am inches away from passing out when I see my parents. And Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. And Grandma and Grandpa Weasley. And James and Lysander and Uncle George and Aunt Angelina…. Just about all my family, taking up a good portion of the Gryffindor table, which looks oddly empty for such a big day. I'm so afraid to approach them. What if my parents are still angry about me not writing? What if my family tells me I just _have _to win this, because just about all of them have been in Gryffindor. I don't think I can face them.

I'm about to turn around and return to my room, but I spot Victoire and Teddy. And in their arms, surrounded by many admirers, is little Dora.

I forget about all my family for a moment as I race for Dora. I think they notice me, though, because just about everyone rushes forward to hug some part of me. Congratulations are said. Pats on the back are made. I smile weakly and hug as many people as I can, but it's not enough to let me pass. Dora is gone from my sight, and I'm in my dad's arms.

"Rosie! We thought we'd lost you!" he jokes. I smile in his chest, which smells of warm sandalwood and leather. I can't help but melt in his arms, so relieved that he's not mad with me.

I turn to my mum, who is smiling wearily at me, arms crossed across her chest. I give her a big hug, asking, "Why so gloomy, mum? Today's a big day!"

I say these words, not really feeling them myself. I have to make them all happy, though.

"Sorry, Rose. It was a late night and early morning."

I kiss her cheek and she hugs me tighter. When we release each other, most everyone has sat down again. I can't spot Victoire or Dora anywhere, but Teddy sits across from us, so I ask, "Where's blondie one and two?"

He laughs. "Run off to the convention, I reckon."

I smile and look around the table. Grandma Weasley reaches a hand to pat my own, smiling warmly at me. "We're all so proud of you, Rose!"

"Sure are," says Grandpa Weasley, eating a piece of toast with relish. "Molly, I reckon this food could rival even yours. I forgot how good it tasted."

My mother wrinkles her nose, and I know exactly what's coming. "Yes, but this food was manufactured by _slaves, _Arthur," she says. "House-elves, cooped in the kitchen day and night, not paid a cent—"

There is a collective groan from my father and Uncle Harry. "Please, Hermione!" they both say. Then my dad says, "Don't start!"

Everyone laughs. I'm about to comment on something, put someone taps on my shoulder. I turn around and get a wet kiss on my cheek from none other than Dora, held by Victoire. Victoire giggles at my reaction, which is a large smile and a small squeak.

"Hullo, stranger!" I say. I can hardly recognize Dora. Her hair is a ripe shade of periwinkle blue, and her entire body has at least doubled in size.

"Rose, congrats on getting champion!" Victoire says, bending down to kiss my cheek. I laugh when Dora grunts, and say my thanks.

"I can't believe Dora! She's grown so much!"

"Yeah, well, part of it is the metamorphagus shining through. I was hoping it would skip a generation…."

"Hey!" comes Teddy's voice from across the table. Victoire and I laugh.

"Here, take Dora. She's been out of her mind happy to see you." And without further ado, Dora is plopped into my lap with a squeal of delight. I wrap my arms around her small body, and she immediately latches on to a dangling red curl.

"Vic, I think you have competition," Teddy announces. Most of the table is quiet. "Dora doesn't even like me that much!"

I laugh. Just to add to the point, Dora turns around and buries her face in my chest, shy from all the faces looking at her. Suddenly, I can't stop laughing, and Dora finds it amusing.

Everyone talks casually about their time at Hogwart's. I'm content to be left out of the conversation, as I'm already glad that they haven't turned to asking me about the championship. Dora is bubbly and happy on my lap, playing with my hair, and me with hers. Slowly, her own hair turns the exact shade of red mine is. I gasp.

A few people look our way, and my mum gasps, too. "Oh my goodness! She looks just like a miniature Rose!"

A few of the older people nod in silent agreement. I can almost see the resemblance myself. Her big blue eyes, looking larger with the red hair, stare up at me, and I feel as if I'm staring into a photograph of me as a child. Dora giggles as my wondering stare. I look up and laugh, suddenly feeling lighter than air. I'm ready.

XX

I cannot even begin to imagine what's behind the curtain. The Quidditch arena has been transformed into a rock stadium. That much I know. But I know absolutely nothing else, and it's killing me.

Scorpius is the first contestant. He looks completely overconfident as he enters the arena. I suppose I expected nothing less than that from him, but it bothers me. How can he be so confident? It's not as if it's Slytherin's task. But he enters nonetheless, and a deafening cheer from the sea of people erupts, muffled behind the curtain.

There is very little noise. I can hear the mutterings of the crowd, and I can't help but press my ear against the curtain to hear it better. No one rushes forward to stop me, and for that I am relieved. Anna and Lorcan sit on two chairs, staring at their hands, not nearly as interested in the goings on outside the tent as I am. I am amazed to find that within a few minutes, the crowd erupts again, and this time I'm sure it's in victory. Scorpius has already gotten by.

Anna is next, and I see neither hide nor hair of Scorpius again. Wherever he is, he's won. He's won, and I'm so insanely irked I cannot even see straight. He was barely in the arena for two minutes! He can't have possibly won that fast, no matter what he faced. I suppose Scorpius was more of a Gryffindor than I thought…..

I continue to pace up and down the tent for a good few minutes. Lorcan sits gloomily in the corner, and despite our friendship, I do not approach him. I wait for the cheer….for something. If Anna takes long on this, then I have no hope to win over Scorpius. He was so _fast, _I—

But then there's the eruption, not three minutes after Anna has entered. Can this task be truly this easy? If it should reassure me, it doesn't. Because I'm next.

I enter the arena when my name is called. For a moment, I am like a deer in headlights. The sun is sickeningly bright compared to my dark circus tent. I put my hand up, trying to get it out of my eyes, trying to be prepared, because I might totally lose thanks to my horrid eyesight—

A noise fit to busting the sound barrier surrounds me, and I immediately react. I jump sky-high, looking around for my competition, wand out and pointed so fast my arm hurts. But there is nothing there. Nothing but the crowd, screaming themselves hoarse. It may be just the curtain that made them seem quiet before. But they are so _loud, _I am sure that I have the largest cheer so far. If I'm lying to myself, I don't care. I need all the confidence I can get.

I know I have only two minutes to beat Scorpius, so I look around to take in my surroundings. There is nothing but smooth granite around me. It shimmers lightly, like a small lake, and I can't help but admire it.

But no, this may be an enemy itself. I must not become distracted; I need to figure out what to do. Because before me, I have just realized, is a mirror.

I don't know how I couldn't have noticed it before. It's ancient, the old metal chipped away in places, the shiny surface covered with cracks and dirt. But it's beautiful, in a way. There is an odd engraving surrounding it, as well as a large one at the top. It says 'Mirror of Erised' on it.

My breath catches. I know this mirror! …my parents spoke of it! …What does it do again? Oh yes, it will show my heart's deepest desire. I leap forward with eager curiosity and anticipation. But wait, this might be just another distraction. I can't let anything distract me… so I promise not to let what I see get to my head before I open my eyes.

For a moment I am stunned. There is a sea of fire in the mirror, but it's white hot, and I can almost feel the heat billowing off the mirror edge. It takes me a moment to see it, but in the center of the fire, untouched, is me. It's me, my lips locked with a boy, taller than me, with beautiful blonde hair shimmering in the firelight. It looks like Scorpius.

The fire surrounding us is exactly what I feel every time I kiss him. How perfectly it symbolizes us, I cannot even begin to say. I am so enraptured with this image, I do not think to move or do anything at all. All I want to do is stare at this image, this fire, because I know that this is what I want. I want it, and I _hate it._

Before I can even begin to untie myself from the image, it changes. I remain locked with Scorpius, but the heat around us cool to a icy chill. The fire that held in the kiss vanishes, leaving a soft rosy glow behind it. For a while it drifts in the air, like sunset against blue sky, as we entwine closer together. But suddenly the rosy glow turns into an eruption of gold, and I stand with a smile in the center of it all, glowing and happy, and Scorpius stands in the background, watching. I have won the Championship. I have won, and just by looking in my own eyes, I know that this is will hold forever. Winning this….. I am finally a winner to myself, and I no longer have to live up to anything. I have lived up to it all. I hold the Championship Cup, and on my right side is Scorpius, looking jealous and angry, and on my left is Lorcan, holding Dora and smiling happily. I realize just how perfectly they both match. Blonde hair, blue eyes, beautiful faces. The rest of my family is in the background, so happy that I've won…..

I love this mirror. I may just sit here for an eternity. If I can just watch the image of Scorpius and I with the child, and even if I don't really have any of it, I will be satisfied So long as I can watch…

A wave of noise crashes over me. It sounds angry, like a storm is coming. Am I at the beach? I have only ever been there once. The waves make noise almost like this….but less human.

Because there are thousands of people surrounding me, in the stands, all screaming for me to go. I cannot sit here forever. How could I have been so blind?

I run forward, tears in my eyes, not daring to glance at the glorious mirror. I can't believe I wasted so much time! There is absolutely no hope for me now. I cannot win this….. The lovely image of me being champion has been torn from my heart with this recent revelation. I can't go on…

But I must. Because before me, right now, is little Dora. Her small body is sitting in front of a large oak chest, it's door open and full of shadows, her smile as bright as the sun...but… something's different. Her eyes are an evil black rather than ocean blue. Her long fingers, much too long for a child of her size, clasp around the Cup. On it is my name, reading 'Rose Weasley, First Place, House Tournament'. In that cup I see my future, my devotion, and a solace for me from the scrutiny of my family. I see success before me, and my own child is holding it. Yet, while in the cup I see success and a great future, in the child I see something entirely different. In the child I see my future with Scorpius, and it bothers me…. It bothers me because I can never be with him if I want to win in this championship, or if I want to win at all in life.

The child's sharp fingers are elongating around the cup, covering my name, chipping the gold. She sucks on the cup with acid spit, and tears well up in my eyes. My future is rusting before my eyes….

I take out my wand and point it at the child, turning away. I do not want to see her get blown to bits, but I tell myself she is not real. I try out as many spells as I can think of, screaming them over and over again before I hear a small pop. The girl is gone. And once more, I am surrounded by nothing but the glistening rock and the cheering crowd. With that final pop, I feel my future with Scorpius (if there ever even was one) disappear.

In a daze, I make my way towards the gate that separated the crowd and stadium. It seems to be surrounded by a magical force field. I can see the sun ripple slightly against it as I move. It glistens and glitters, and it seems that this is just another thing to distract me. I hope I'm not still being timed. Surely they would stop the clock after I conquered the task?

I suppose it doesn't matter anyways. I will come in dead last, I'm sure of it.

I am pointed by a strange man towards a box. Or, at least it looks like a box from the outside. Inside it is a large comfortable couch and a furry rug. All red. And at the moment, I'm sick of looking at red. I can't bear to see another red thing for the rest of my life.

It seems people can't see inside the box, but I can see out. I watch as Lorcan makes his way out of the large tent on the opposite side of the stadium. Even through the thick walls of my box I can hear the crowd cheering. Lorcan smiles at the glistening rock, then walks brusquely to the mirror. He seems to take haste in moving along, unlike myself. He stares at the mirror for a mere second, his eyes lighting up with fascination, but he quickly moves on. I am so relieved that the mirror remained blank when he looked at it, so glad that no one saw my deepest desire that I do not realize that Lorcan has come face to face with his worst fear.

To my fascination, there is nothing but a large deformed beast before him. It has a long, wrinkled horn on its front, but a relatively tiny body. It's bright red in color, with eyes the size of dinner plates. I have absolutely no name for it. Like my own beast, it seems vile to the core.

Lorcan mutters something under his breath, something I do no catch but immediately know what spell it was by the effect it creates. Amazingly, the beast before him turns into a large blast-ended skrewt, not quite fully grown, but completely shell-less and pink. Despite the fear they caused for me in sixth year, seeing them so exposed is almost comical. Lorcan seems to think so, too.

Riddikkulus. I can't even believe I didn't think of that for myself. It was obviously some form of Boggart. The spell would have easily gotten rid of the beast, instead of trying a thousand different spells and to try and rid of it. I smack my hand to my forehead, completely angry with myself.

Well, Lorcan has obviously won time-wise. It's taken him a little under a minute to finish the task. why was it so hard for me?

Once the scores are announced, I leave my little box to find my family. I'm in last place, obviously, with 18 out of 25. At least I didn't get a zero. Anna came in third, with a 19, then Scorpius with a 21, then Lorcan with a 24. The judges must be tough to not give Lorcan full credit. There was nothing wrong that I could point out.

But of course. The Heads of Houses sit on the judges table, and of course they will try and dock from students not in their own house. I suppose it's kind of unfair, but it is the house tournament, after all. Professor Huggins, Gryffindor's Head, with his long gray beard and wide brown eyes. He's perhaps the most boring of all the judges, and unfortunately probably judged everyone fairly. Professor Woldells, Head of Hufflepuff, is an odd sort of woman. She has round spectacles that make her eyes look three times their size, with white hair that looks like cotton. Professor Ramsey, Head of Ravenclaw, sits politely with his hands folded under his chin. His black hair and beady eyes shimmer in the sun. And Professor Haas, unfortunately Head of Slytherin. Her light brown hair looks golden in the sun, her tan deepening and yellowing. She catches my eye and winks. She probably vouched for me from the beginning.

This news doesn't reassure me, but it doesn't sadden me either. I am so disappointed in myself almost sickening. How am I going to face my family? They will surely all be disappointed in me, too. And worst of all….how am I going to face _him?_

The only person I really want to talk to is Lorcan. He must not know, because when I spot my family from afar, he isn't there. I am in no mood to talk to anyone else. I head up to the Gryffindor common room, congratulations thrown at me from all directions, but I ignore them. I don't deserve it. How could I have failed so miserably? Why did I fail? No one else failed so badly.

Albus is waiting for me outside the portrait hole. If I can't have Lorcan, then he is the second best thing. Before I can stop myself, before I can even begin to care about what others think, I fall into his arms and begin sobbing. He pats my back awkwardly. He's never been very good at stuff like this, but he's tried all the same.

"Rose," he finally says, "Rose, you did fine. No one expected anything from you. You just expected it from yourself."

I allow him to drag me up to his bedroom. He lays me down and sits beside me, letting me soak his pillow, letting me mutter nonsense until my throat's dry. He learned a long time ago how to deal with me, even though it's still not in his nature as a boy.

Maybe I did just expect myself to win. I mean, I can't always come out on top. Maybe this is just a way of karma teaching me a lesson. I'm not always going to win…..

But that just brings me back to point one. I _want _to win. I _need _to win, because I'm not always going to. Winning this means everything…. If I win this, I will never have to win again.

"If you care so much about it," Al sighs after a while, "there are still three more tasks you can win."

"B-b-but t-this was G-Gryffindor's t-task!" I blubber. Tears are leaking from my eyes like rain from a storm cloud.

"So what?" Al smiles at me. "We always thought you were more of a Ravenclaw."

This was not the right thing to say, as I cry even harder after that. He pats my back for a while until I finally give into sleep.

Nightmares are frequent in sleep. They consist of that little blonde baby, held by Scorpius, and I know they're both evil. There's something feral in their expressions; their eyes are too dark, too untamed, almost malicious. I fear them more than I fear losing this whole thing. Yet, it switches. I fear them at one point….. Then, unexpectedly it changes. I suddenly fear _losing _them more than I fear anything else in the world.

When I wake I know that's what the mirror was showing. I wanted them more than anything, more than the cup, more than being a winner. That baby represented a beautiful future….and Scorpius represented my heart's desire. If I was to want to win what I needed to win (which is this _competition, _not Scorpius) then I needed to have no distractions. No Scorpius. No Scorpius, pretend or not.

XX

**Reviews are appreciated!**

**Chloe**

**Also, to my reviewers, I apologize! I messed up chapter four and five. I left out a lot, about 5,000 words, so if you wouldn't mind go back and read four and five again just to look at the parts you missed. I'm so sorry!**


	8. Chapter 8

All I can even begin to think about is how immature I've been. Blubbering my worries in Albuarms was embarrassing to say the least. I can't even face him now. He sits on the couch next to me, his head in his hand, glasses askew. He's fast asleep and I hope he stays like that.

If there was anything I could do to change the past few hours, I would. Maybe I could steal a time turner when I begin working in the Department of Mysteries. It seems even then, years from now, I will feel the nagging in the pit of my stomach. The ridicule and shame will fill me even when I'm old and withering away. Maybe the truth is that it might not even matter in a year, but I don't give a damn about the truth. I just know that now is perhaps the worst I've felt in my entire life.

I suppose Albus won't mind if I leave him in peaceful slumber. I get up to leave, but something catches my eye. In the corner couch, next to the flickering fire, is my own father. If I had to face anyone right now, my first choice wouldn't be him.

Maybe I can convince him that I'm not completely worthless. My parents are both so accomplished, but they have never compared me or my brother to who they are and what they've done. Still, I am constantly in their shadow, trying to outshine the fierce loyalty of my dad and the immeasurable intelligence of my mother.

To my surprise, he's awake. His blue eyes feebly flicker open and fall on me. Great. Now I really have no hope of escaping.

"Hi there, Rose," he says. His face looks ancient in the firelight.

I might have been able to mutter a 'hi' or 'hello', or even a small nod of my head. But I don't get the chance to do any of these things because before I know it the tears are streaming down my face, and I am falling into my father's waiting arms.

"Sweetheart, don't cry," he says softly. His voice is cracked with sleep, and for some odd reason, it reassures me. Maybe if he's tired he can't face me with the full extent of his worries.

Unlike with Al, I don't feel embarrassed or ashamed here. I can smell home, thick cinnamon and floral sweetness… It's warm and thick here, like hot soup, and I know that breathing fresh air is not what I need. I simply need to smell the warm scent of home. Doesn't every child wish for home when they're sad?

But I'm not a child. I haven't been a child for a while. Reversed into this state….No, I have been _forced _into this state of mind. I am not prepared to cry here, yet I'm not prepared to fight it either. It's so amazing to cry here, holding some part of home, I actually forget expectations and just let go.

Dad gives up trying to tell me to stop crying after a few feeble words. I want to cry, and he's the perfect person to cry on. He doesn't move his arms awkwardly or pat my back in reassurance. He knows, from years and years of experience, that I simply want to be held. I want to be held in arms that never move, that never falter and never leave. I want to be held by someone familiar, someone who knows my habits and who knows that I _love _being held like this.

"Dad?" I finally say. My breathing comes in shallow hiccups, my voice finally recovering. I feel like I'm a balloon, now deflated after letting years of stale air escape from me. It feels amazing.

"Are you done soaking me?" he jokes. I smile against his soaking sweater.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Now, why would I be mad at you, Rosie?"

"Because I lost."

"No one cares."

I look up at him. His face seems so sincere and happy; I had to believe him. His words are as true as the stars.

"You can't tell me that no one called me a failure."

"No one did, Rose. They all thought you did better than any of them could have done."

"That's not true." I whisper the words, hoping maybe he won't hear. Because I want his words to be true, but I'm not ready to accept them. I don't want to think I've cried about nothing.

"Ask them yourself then. You were just fine, Rose. There're still three more tasks for you to redeem yourself. Today isn't the end of it."

"It feels like it."

He sighs happily. "Ah, to be young. You always think it's the end of the world."

I look up into his reminiscing eyes. They're so blue I think I might drown in them. I've inherited those very eyes. Do people feel like swimming inside them when they look at me, too? I always imagine my eyes as two oceans on two separate sides of the world, with small golden islands floating inside them. They look so abandoned, those islands, but in reality they're only inches away from another side of the world.

"It never really is."

I fall asleep again in my father's arms. When I wake up I am in my own golden bed, a messy note scrawled on my bedside table. It's in my father's hand.

_Rosie,_

_We're sorry we didn't get to say goodbye. Victoire and Teddy are staying one more day because they don't want Dora to be torn from her godmother just yet! Your mother and I love you very much, and so does just about the rest of the world. Don't forget to write! I never got to personally yell at you for not writing so you have to pay me back sometime._

_Dad_

_P.S. Remember, there's three more tasks left! But really, who cares? I certainly don't!...but seriously, you better win._

I smile at the note and read it once more. My dad's good humor simply seeps from the words. I giggle and put it down on my dresser. Even if I do feel slightly abandoned by my family, unable to say goodbye, I feel glad that they're gone. Maybe someone has mercy on me. At least I didn't have to face them after my gigantic failure.

It's slightly odd how I feel right now. It's this sort of weightlessness that lifts me on my toes, yet there is certain heaviness in the pit of my stomach that won't allow me to forget yesterday. It feels amazing now that I've cried for once; it's like years of hurt have finally lifted off my aching back. Yet something feels so different and I don't think it's the sudden change in weight.

I look in the mirror to find a not-surprising image. My eyes are as puffy as tennis balls with a redness to match. My hair has resorted to frizzing since my curls have been so dry for the past few days. There's a few other unpleasant things, an occasional sniff, and I'm settled to go and wash off in the bathroom.

Unfortunately, when I reach the bottom of the steps I find Scorpius sitting on the couch. He doesn't seem to be up to anything except staring at the ceiling in a nonchalant manner. It irks me how easily relaxation comes to him. I suppose he could always be faking, but he seems too comfortable to be pretending.

"You sleep like a zombie," he says, without looking up at me. This, too, annoys me.

"And you act like an ass," I respond.

He smiles and looks at me. I flinch away, willing him not to see my horrid condition, hoping that he's too far away to look close enough. His smile turns to a gloating smirk. I know he's thrilled to see me in such a horrid condition, but there is something hidden in his eyes. It's something I've seen in my own in the past: he looks like he's lost something.

"Well, what a surprise. Not only do you sleep like a zombie, you also look like one."

I choose to ignore this. "Shut it, Malfoy."

"Why should I? It's only the truth."

I could punch him, but I opt to merely squint at him instead. "You don't look too great yourself. Late night of partying?"

"Everyone wanted to celebrate _my _victory, I suppose."

I don't have a response for this. I try to convince myself that no one cares that Scorpius won. But he's immensely popular among the Slytherin crowd.

I turn and stalk up the stairs. His expression irks at me. I can't figure out why he would look like he lost an entire competition, when really he's just won. Unless he's figured it out….unless he knows that I've been pretending, too, and that he can't win when both of us realize the other's game.

That's when I remember. I stumble slightly on the steps, realizing with unhinging force that the knot in my stomach is slowly unwinding itself. I can no longer like Scorpius. I can no longer even pretend, because trying to win over him is too dangerous for me. I can't risk falling for him while trying to lure him in.

As I turn on the faucets, I remember what kissing him felt like. I remember I warned myself that I had to keep my emotions in check. I tried. Oh Merlin, how I tried. But the truth is that it's all too real to try and pretend. Pretending just leads to a giant slap in the face from reality, and that's not what I want. It blurs the line of what's real and what's fake, to the point where I don't even know the truth anymore.

I strip off my clothes and prepare to dive. Agonizingly unrealistic, I know that I want Scorpius. I want to kiss him, and I want it to be _real. _I want the passion I feel to be felt in return. I want him so badly it hurts, yet I can no longer even pretend to have him.

Under the water it is boiling hot, wiping my brain of thoughts. The bubbles tickle my bare skin as I swim to the bottom. Under here, I feel a part of home that my dad had given me last night. If anything, the past day has been a revelation. My dad knew it, I knew it, and now I remember it.

What I want more than anything in the world is to win this competition. The _real _competition.

_What is a defining moment, really? Is it that point where you finally realize the truth? If it is, I don't quite understand my defining moment. If I realize that the truth is I'm completely fascinated by this boy, by his sleek hair and words, by the passion hidden in his eyes, even the scent that mingles in the empty air. If that's the truth, then why do I feel like it's hidden behind something? I am fascinated by this boy…what else can there be? I was set on pretending to love him. It was all a lie, none of the truth, because I could never love him. Winning is too important for that risk; being a success in life means no Scorpius at all. And however I reason it, I'm not sure…. Are you? Deep inside I feel that the world of my future belongs in the success of the tournament, but I know it's all just empty. But it's winning. It's winning something that no one in my family has before, and I will outshine them if I do win. I have to win. I have to._

XX

The knock comes at exactly one a.m.

I am so asleep I barely even register that there is a knock in the first place. There are three knocks, and I think I'm dreaming. Then, there are three more, and I don't know where they're coming from. Then three more, and I know I have to leave the warmth of my bed. I drearily open my eyes, feeling like I'm peeling my eyelids back by force, and get out of bed. I have on flannel pajama pants and a long red shirt. Whoever's at the portrait hole, I hope they don't expect formal attire.

I nearly fall down the stairs, my legs feel so heavy. All I realize is that the fire is barely a few embers in the hearth; it's the only light guiding my way, and I wish I had more. My barely open eyes take awhile to adjust to the darkness.

I have a fleeting fear of who might be at the portrait hole. It could be a late night visitor for Scorpius….. Maybe even a girl, coming to congratulate Scorpius on his victory. The image scares me so much I stumble a little on the rug, nearly falling to the hard floor.

I make it to the portrait hole just as the final three knocks resound. I'm amazed Scorpius hasn't woken up yet, the knocks are so loud, and I almost have to cover my ears. The portrait hole swings open, and standing there, a bouquet of red roses in hand, and an unearthly smile on his face, is—

"Lorcan!" I say in surprise. For once it doesn't look like he's wandered here by accident. It's almost eerie, seeing him here, with flowers that stand out brightly in the darkness.

"Hi, Rose," he says. "I wanted to congratulate you….. And make sure you were okay."

"For what? For losing?" I say groggily, purposely ignoring his second statement. I rub my eyes wearily, my surprise ebbing, and my tiredness coming back fast.

"No," he says seriously. "For trying." Then, he adds, still serious, "Nice pajamas."

"I didn't even win my own house's task. That's not trying, it's just losing." Tears prickle in the corner of my eyes.

Lorcan smiles warmly at me. He lights up my heart with just a smile. "See. I knew something was wrong."

I smile gratefully at him. "Lorcan," I say lovingly, "you have no idea how much this means to me."

"Not at all." He holds out the roses for me. "There's thirteen of them."

I laugh like a bell chime. I remember, being only five, sitting under the stars with Lorcan and counting as many as we possibly could. When I was able to count five hundred, yet he was only able to count thirteen, we agreed that we would always stop at thirteen. Thirteen was our number; somewhere beyond the infatuation and romance of twelve, somewhere where lifelong friendship surpassed anything love could compare to. That was thirteen for us.

I can't help it. I run to him and hug him, burying my nose in his warm skin. It smells just like I remember him, even though I haven't been this close to him since those summer nights spent under the stars. It's just another piece of home that I've been craving so much this year. I don't want to let go. I may miss this more than any other piece of home.

"Let's go inside," I whisper. I am suddenly overwhelmed by the combination of weariness and the longing to be close to a piece of home. Lorcan picks me up and I wrap my legs around him, his strong arms holding me against him and legs moving beneath, my face still buried in his neck.

He navigates incredibly well with the glowing embers creating such little light. I unwrap myself from his body and he lowers me onto the couch. I fold myself to the edge of the couch to make room for Lorcan, who lowers himself behind me, his muscular arm wrapping around my waist. The scene reminds me of the Christmases we spent together in front of the fire, at one of our homes, wrapped around each other, whispering and laughing all through the night. I will never stay awake tonight, but just knowing he's here, caring for me when no one else did, calms me like nothing else can.

"Lorcan?" I whisper. My eyes are already falling steadily downwards.

"Yes, Rose?"

"Sometimes I think you're the only one who ever cares about me," I say. "Thank you."

Somewhere, as if in a distant universe, I hear the small thump of footsteps. Lorcan's arm ripples and tightens around me. Words are not needed to know his reassurance, but he say anyways, "I'm not the only one who cares, Rosie. Everyone loves you."

"I love you," I say. I can no longer keep my eyes open….

"I'll always love you, Rose."

The last things I see are the thirteen red roses, set on the table, in a position so tragic and deforming, yet they look stronger and more vicarious than ever. I think, in one last grasp at thought, that home isn't all I'm craving. It's Lorcan. Maybe it should always be Lorcan.

XX

**Ok, I would like to give a GIGANTIC hand and hug to Lida (Iforever1), my wonderful editor, who has continued to go above and beyond in editing and being a great fan. I couldn't do this without her! I'd also like to give credit to her for adding in parts of the story. So, co-author and editor, thank you!**

**Reviews make my day, so please review!**

**Chloe**


	9. Chapter 9

The morning comes slowly, yet it feels like only a few moments before it all hits me. Today somehow seems so new, so raw, that I hardly feel like myself. Something is bubbling in my chest, like excitement or nervousness, and it feels foreign. I lay here for a moment. Just watching. Just drowning.

It takes me a moment to remember where I fell asleep; in Lorcan's arms, downstairs, on the couch. The memory makes me smile in comfort. It feels almost distant. He must have brought me up here in the early morning. I can picture him easily lifting me and carrying me up the steps, his large legs and arms holding me with ease.

The light spills into the room like a froth of gold, illuminating the pale gold of the room, and drawing out the red from the corners. I always thought sunrise was more beautiful than sunset, even though I've only seen a few sunrises myself. From Hogwarts it is so incredible. The sun shimmers on the lake and ripples the trees with orange light. The sun seems so huge in the sky. I cannot imagine the world turning around it. We seem to be the center, don't we? It all belongs to our world. It all belongs to us.

I can feel the warmth filling my pores. It feels incredible, like a bath, yet I feel nothing but the comforting weight of the bed sheets and the glowing sunrise. It warms my very soul, if you can take that without it seeming corny as hell. I smile to myself.

First sign of madness: laughing at your own corny jokes.

I get out of bed. I am surprisingly ready for today, ready to take it all on, and I feel as if I could take on the world. I feel incredible for some reason. I wash my face magically, brush my hair and swirl it a few extra times, and even curl my eyelashes around my wand. I slip into my uniform with caution. What's changed me? As of yesterday, I felt completely lost. Suddenly I feel found.

Maybe it was my father, whom I cried into and who brought me close to home. Maybe it was the warm bath, the water, the delicious weightlessness that felt like home. Maybe it was Lorcan, his warm breath and soft neck, who reminded me of everything I loved at home, and everything I love about him. I feel like a one of those egotistic girls I've always despised as I descend the stairs. Even Scorpius's sneering face cannot faze me. It's all over, and suddenly it's all begun. I feel on top of even _him._

The first thing I see is Scorpius; I've descended so quietly he hasn't even noticed me. He's sitting on the couch, leaning on the coffee table, and fingering the thirteen roses that were left on the coffee table. My roses. It feels like he's defiled something inside of me, seeing him touch those roses. I hope he thinks I'm in love with Lorcan. Maybe he'll get the punch in the gut I've been longing to give him myself.

"Tired of feeling like a loser yet?" he asks. He turns around. I glare at the single red petal in his hand.

What is he playing at _now? _I almost feel exasperated, as if he is a child willing me to play silly games with him. Maybe he's finally figured out that I didn't want to play anymore. Maybe he's just jealous of Lorcan. Either way, he's no longer trying to lure me to him. He's as rude and self-important as ever.

"No one gives a damn that you won, Malfoy," I say. Despite my resolve to stay calm, there is something about this boy that just unnerves me. No one can keep a happy face on around _him._

"Yes, but _I _do," he says, his face sneering. He's standing by the couch, leaning nonchalant like against it. Like he doesn't have a care in the world. I'm sure he's been terrified at some point, possibly even intimidated. No one can be that obliviously narcissistic.

"Of course you do. You're just too stupid to see that no one else does."

He smiles at me. It's not one of those smirks that so many people often display. Although he does smirk (frequently), this grin is softer. It has a way of being completely hot headed and lovely at the same time. It's one of those 'I-have-a-secret-and-I-won't-tell' kind of smiles. Despite my resolve, it makes my heart flutter in my chest.

"How about I walk with you to breakfast?" he says. Catching my surprised eyes, he quickly adds, "I want to prove how wrong you are."

"Of course you do," I say, and perhaps there's a bit of sadness in my voice. He couldn't just want to walk me to the Great Hall just to _be _with me? Of course not. This is Malfoy we're talking about.

He holds out his arm to me. I am still on the last step of the staircase, higher than him, better than him. I tell myself this when I grab it. There is a voice in the back of my mind screaming that I had promised not to do this. But it wouldn't hurt for him just to walk me, would it? He's being a gentleman. And ladies don't reject gentlemen.

On the way to the Great Hall we don't speak. Maybe it's just a calm morning air that's settled between us, but the silence doesn't feel wrong or too polite like the other moments between us. It feels almost like acceptance. I suppose we've both accepted defeat here. We can finally focus on the real tournament.

"Be ready to be shocked, Weasley," he says. I only smile politely. There's no way people will care as much as he's exaggerating; perhaps the Slytherins will scream, but no one else will.

As the doors of the Hall open, I find my breath leaving me. The whole hall has turned its faces towards us, as if waiting for us….. But no. It's not me they're waiting for. It's _him. _I feel so sickened by the whole thing, as the crowd bursts into applause, that I drop Scorpius's arm and leave to my table. Thankfully the Gryffindor table has enough dignity to refrain from cheering.

I look back at Scorpius as I take my seat between Pamela and Caroline. Al is seated across from me and follows my death glare. Scorpius looks so proud I could vomit. His eyes flitter over to me momentarily, and it's so quick I have no time to get rid of my envious eyes and put on a kind smile. Al laughs at me.

I switch my glare over to him instead. His hair looks particularly messed up today. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your new boyfriend?" His grin is prize-worthy.

"He's not my boyfriend, you idiot," I reply. I try to keep the denial out of my voice, possibly failing.

"Well he walked you here and practically cried when you stomped off. That looks like romance to me."

I glare his way. Al can be impossible sometimes.

"Well, I suppose you could have chosen worse," Lorcan says. I didn't notice him seated next to Al, as his blonde head was turned in conversation with Yuri, a pretty Asian girl in my Arithmacy class.

Al looks outraged. "She couldn't have chosen much lower than Scorpius!"

"She could have chosen Dreg Goyle," Lorcan says airily. I smile gratefully at him.

"Yes, thank you Lorcan. You see? I could have ch—"

"Yes, but you wouldn't choose him, Rose," Al points out. "He's about as attractive as a rock."

"Oh, so Scorpius is more attractive than a rock?" I snap. "What, is he considered a hairy beast, then?"

Al looks thoughtful as he says, "No, not really. He's more of a poisonous bug _beneath _the rock."

I laugh loudly, sardonically, singing my displeasure. But I smile at Albus anyways, if only because of his painful immaturity.

"Well, we aren't dating. And I'll be sure to let you know when we are," I say. I shove a plateful of eggs before me but I'm not really hungry. I spoon a couple of bites into my mouth before I'm once again I stop to think.

"Rosie," Caroline says, "you have to eat. You are a champion, after all!"

She smiles sickeningly sweet at me. I suppose I'm not just angry about Al and Scorpius, but about the tournament, too. While I don't really mind that I lost it bugs me that no one has even congratulated me on _trying. _A bunch of kids in the younger years have come up and shook my hand. Yet not one of my friends, besides a singing congratulatory card from Pamela, and Lorcan's late night visit, have said a thing. Maybe they're just disappointed I didn't win for Gryffindor….

The thought fills me with sadness. The anger ebbs away slowly, and I am overcome with a sense of foreignness towards my friends. Maybe it's just my crazy hormones, but I don't really feel like being near these unappreciative people.

I turn to Pamela, who is currently staring off into space, and poke her in the shoulder. When she looks at me I know she knows something's wrong, because her arched eyebrows go into her hairline. I smile sadly at her. "Can we go to the library before class? I need some time to study." This, of course, being a blatant lie. But Pamela knows it and she immediately gets up to leave with me.

I turn to Caroline and Lorcan, ignoring Al's eyes. "I'll see you guys in class."

Lorcan nods and smiles, but Caroline perks up slightly. "Are you going to the library?"

"Yeah," I say, hesitating. I don't want to flat out tell her she can't come, but I really prefer to talk to Pamela. "Pamela and I have some Arithmacy homework we need to finish. You'd be bored."

I smile at her, but I think she got the message even before she asked. She might just have wanted to be sure she was right. Thankfully she doesn't look upset, and she turns back to talk to Al and Lorcan with a wink at me. I may not be sensitive or any of that crap, but it hurts more than anything when my friends are hurt. Except today. Al looks forlorn as I turn away, but I could care less right now.

Pamela and I walk up to the library in silence. I stare at her long dark hair as we walk up the stairs. I always thought she was the prettiest girl in school, but she hasn't even had a boyfriend yet, much to my protest. She has golden eyes that are framed by long, arched eyebrows and high cheekbones. Her hair is thick and falls to her waist, never tangled, never messy. She is almost perfect in looks, and I think she's probably perfect all around, too.

"Did I ever tell you that you are the best friend in the world?" I say. My voice lowers as we enter the library, books flying magically from shelf to shelf, the whole place looking older and wearier than any part of Hogwarts. I inhale the scent of old parchment as we enter. It's so familiar to me, it almost smells like home.

"Once or twice, yes," she says. Her smile is radiant. I don't know why, but Pamela has always loved praise.

"Seriously, Pam," I say with enthuse, "when no one else cares, you do. That singing card really made my day."

"I can't believe no one congratulated you today." There is real disbelief in her voice. Truth, as always.

"Yeah, I know." We take a seat at our special table in the back, by the only window in the library. The morning light is still streaming through the dusty window pane. I sit with my back to it, the sunlight warming my body lightly. I smile, despite my words.

"You were great, Rose, really. It doesn't matter that you didn't win. There are still three more tasks ahead."

"So I've been told."

"And besides," she says, and smiles widely, "when you win Slytherin's task, no one will be laughing then."

I laugh with her. I can't imagine the look of incredulity on Scorpius's face if I won Slytherin's tasks. But I suppose he won over me in Gryffindor's, and I accepted that. He'll just have to face it that I'm better than him.

We talk gossip for a while. Gossip for us is not about other people; we don't tend to concern ourselves with other's private life. Pamela tells me that Evan Longbottom talked to her today. He's the only boy she's actually ever been interested in, that I can remember. I tell her for the millionth time that there is no way Evan could say no if she asked him out. I know for a fact that he's had his eyes on Pamela since _first _year. Pamela, though, believes in old fashioned ways. Unfortunately for her, no boy in his right mind has had the confidence to ask her out. I tell a lot of them that she's really quite kind and mild, but of course they don't believe me.

"Well, there's supposed to be a ball coming up after the second task," she says. I look in shock at her. A ball?

"Like, boys and girls, dancing, dresses, music...?" I trail off, completely lost on the subject. So my suspicions were correct; the gold gown in my trunk wasn't just for taking a stroll in the garden.

"Yeah. I hope Evan asks me….. I already have a dress to wear. It's….short." A rare blush creeps up her neck and I laugh.

"My mom bought me a dress, too, except it glitters. I don't wear things that _glitter."_

"Well, you can always buy another one."

"And disappoint my mother? She'll probably be there with the Daily Prophet to get photos of me in that dress. I'll bet she paid a good fifty galleons for it."

"Well, glitter never hurt anyone. Except for maybe you, but you can always cure allergies." We both laugh until Madam Pince shushes us loudly.

We sit in silence for a while. The heat on my back slowly grows, glowing and radiating onto my skin. It feels wonderful, just like this morning, when I had made promises I've already broken…..

"So what about you and Scorpius?" Pamela asks. To me it seems out of the blue, but I suppose it was expected.

I hesitate for what seems like hours. I want nothing more than to tell Pamela everything... She's never kept anything from me, and here I am keeping one of the biggest secrets of my life from her. It doesn't seem fair. "I….I don't really know."

It seems so lame to me, but I suppose Pamela knows I don't want to talk about it. "Oh," is all she says.

"Wait," I say. "I do know. I want to tell you everything."

And suddenly I'm _telling _her everything. About the air of tension between Scorpius and I for the past six years; about the driving competitive force between us; about this year, how sharing the Head dorm seemed like fate to me; about the tournament, and my decision to win over my one true competitor by making love be his weakness; about the too-real moment shared in the bathroom; about our horrible fight; the previous task, what I saw in the mirror, and what I've resolved to do. Pamela listens to the whole thing, and even when the signal to go to first class sounds, she ignores it. We can be late. This is important.

When I'm done with it all, we both take deep breaths. I'm eager to hear her words. Something about speaking everything out loud has an air of finality about it. Hearing the response to those words will be making me accept them.

"Rose, to me it sounds like you're trying not to disappoint your family. Loving Scorpius would do that, sure, but you really need to find your own path." I stare at her blankly for a while, stunned by her words of wisdom. Pamela rarely does anything but agree with me.

"I don't think that's true," I say. "I just can't love him because he's a danger to me this year."

"But why is he a danger to you in the first place?" Pamela asks. "Because you want to win the tournament, right?"

I nod, not seeing where she's going.

She sighs deeply. "Rose, I can't really help you much with this. But let me give you this one piece of advice: follow your heart."

The seriousness of the topic vanishes when I smile. She smiles back, and we gossip about the details of Scorpius and I. I feel on top of the world as we finally make our way to Arithmacy together. Maybe my resolution wasn't made this morning. It was finally having someone to cry on with them knowing the truth of my tears; finally being able to share what's been so oppressive for so long; finally having it lifted. This time, I'm sure the weight is gone. It may return again, but at least I have someone to share it with.

_That night I dream of ball gowns and oval dance floors and glitter. There is a glorious stage that belongs to only me. Pamela watches on the floor, dashing Evan holding her delicate hand, her red dress making her sparkle without a single inch of glitter. I may be dancing with Scorpius or dancing with a nameless man, but I'm only aware that I'm dancing. No one judges. No one cares. My dress isn't even that glorious, but I am radiant as the sun. _

_XX_

**Thank you to my reviewers and to Lida (Iforever1) who are both incredible and….well, a lot of adjectives. **

**Chloe**


	10. Chapter 10

**I apologize for the long wait! I was gone all week long, for one thing. And my wonderful editing staff is currently down, so I was biting my nails over this chapter. I deeply apologize again if there are a lot of mistakes! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!**

**XX**

The months in between October and December seem too short for me. We are alerted only a week after the first task that the second one will be on the first of December. To me it seems that they are already pressuring us to figure out the future task. But what is there to do to prepare besides worry and wait? I do a lot of both.

Lessons get harder and harder every day. It seems the professors are determined to stuff our brains as full as possible before the winter break. In Transfiguration we continue to study the animal-human transformations, all of us becoming increasingly wary about the whole thing. Professor Haas has shown us the spell it takes to transform, but she has yet to teach it to us, deeming us not yet ready for such important information. Arithmacy is where the biggest work load lays, Professor Huggins assigning at least a foot essay each night, otherwise at least fifty individual problems. Muggle Studies, despite being the easiest class I've taken, goes into many of the things I haven't already learned about muggles, when otherwise I knew just about everything Professor Woldells taught the class. Now we're learning things such as the mythological Muggle figures and the Muggle world's basic knowledge of the wizarding world; before that, I'd always thought that Muggles were oblivious but just made up fairy tales. Now, apparently, the wizards were unable to wipe the memory of individuals completely clean before the Muggle had time to write down what they saw.

I look forward to Christmas break, mainly because I will be staying at Hogwarts. Christmas at Hogwarts is always a very rare and wonderful thing. Just relaxing in a place meant for studying has some sort of effect on me. Al, Lorcan, Lily and Hugo are usually my only company over the Holidays. _This _year, much to my chagrin, almost everyone is staying for the break. Just because of the stupid _ball. _Christmas almost seems less appealing after hearing this news.

Scorpius and I grow ever more distant over the two months. I rarely see him anywhere except for in classes; it's as if I'm not even living with him anymore. This doesn't bother me, really. I should be happy that we can finally be true enemies. I had been terrified that he would eventually be my downfall after what I saw in the mirror. He really was my true desire, and he knew that. Keeping my distance is the best thing I could do. But I can't help but feel that Scorpius keeping his distance from me might be because he's planning something….

Thankfully, Al remains supportive, despite not once bringing up the first task. Many people make fun of me, mostly Slytherins, and Al at least defends me. If that's all the recognition that he even c_ares _about it, I'll take it.

Pamela and I don't bring up the subject of Scorpius often, since there really isn't much to talk about in the first place. She still looks at Evan Longbottom with longing eyes; I still tell her that it will happen eventually. It seems the wizarding world around us is fading to simple social problems, yet growing ever stronger in the preparation for setting us up for our career. Since I'll be working as an Unspeakable, I'm sure, magic should be my main priority in my last year at Hogwarts. But oddly, it's not.

Lorcan is the only one I really allow myself time to be with. His carefree face always makes me cheerful and alleviates stress I'm feeling. When most of the time my only company is a quill and parchment, it's nice to have a living, breathing figure with me, even if we only exchange a few words.

XX

It's simply amazing to me how little time runs by between the two tasks. All I really want is for Christmas break to come and leave me in a peaceful blanket of snow. Usually the white powder is always calming; this year, despite the heavy blanket of it, I feel no calmer when it settles. It's all just white noise in my ears and eyes. It seems the closer I get to the first, the more everything turns to white noise.

And now the task is only a week away.

"Oh, Rose!" Margery calls to me on the way out of the Great Hall. I recognize her breathless voice, even though her features blend in with the very walls. Lorcan and I both turn and smile at her. Or, at least I do. Lorcan just stares airily into her forehead.

"Hi, Marge," I say. It has always been her preferred nickname, although I always thought that her full name was prettier.

"Um…," she begins. She's staring at Lorcan with fascination, like most girls do. He is probably one of the most handsome boys in the school, although I never really notice it myself. "Uh—the Professor—Professor Haas—wanted me to tell the champions to meet in her classroom at six tonight."

"Why didn't you call my name when you ran up here?" Lorcan asks unexpectedly. I laugh a little, but stop once I see the horrified expression on Marge's face. Obviously she didn't think it was funny.

"I—I didn't see you." Those four words, and she's off. Her muddy brown hair immediately blends in with the crowd. It must be nice, being able to go invisible at a moment's notice. Even though I get an invisibility cloak for one week a month (shared between Hugo, Lily, Al, and me, courtesy of Uncle Harry), it's hard to disguise my fire-red hair in a crowd.

"She's an odd girl," Lorcan says.

"You're an odd boy," I say jokingly.

"Yes, well, we figured that out long ago." He waves his hand brusquely. "But I always thought she was very normal."

"She's just intimidated," I say, "because you're so incredibly good looking."

"Well, sure," he says, "but that's no reason to run off."

We arrive at the tallest tower in the castle. Professor Zenobia and six other students are waiting for us, including Scorpius, silvery in the moonlight cascading directly into the stone circle. The night is cool and calming. Most student quit astronomy in their fifth year, but I found it almost intoxicating to be out in the night, led by starlight and the illuminating telescopes. It was more of a relaxation class than a true study session, although the star charts were frequent and tedious.

Lorcan and I pair up at a telescope. I point it directly at the moon, studying the craters (as is our assignment) and the waxing cycle it's currently in. It's full tonight, gloriously silver and beautiful in the sky.

"Oh dear," Lorcan says suddenly, "I think Hagrid's back from his 'mission.'"

I look down onto the silvery grass, and sure enough there is Hagrid's hut, the lights gleaming and the chimney pouring smoke. Though I was not nearly as close to Hagrid as my mother and father had been, I still found him good company, and had gone to visit him the previous Saturday to talk to him about the task. He was one of the few people who could make me cheer up in a matter of minutes. He told me he was going on a mission to collect a few things for the second task; clearly he was back.

"We should go see him after we meet with Professor Haas," I say. Maybe he'll give a hint as to what I'm facing, if Professor Haas doesn't beat him to it.

"Look what he's doing!" Lorcan says loudly. I swing the telescope to his looming figure, hovering over the lake, and both Lorcan and I squeeze to look through the lens at what Hagrid may be doing.

"It looks like he's putting something in the lake," I say. And it does. He's holding something small in his hands, all of it silhouetted against the bright moonlight, placing it carefully into the water. It might just be a kelpie he's decided to take under his wing. It wouldn't be the first time.

"Ooh, I do hope it's another kelpie," Lorcan says, as if reading my mind. I seem to remember the little water-dweller as anything but pleasant.

"Let's hope it isn't."

"Well, we can ask him about it when we see him tonight."

"Oh, I've just remembered!" I say excitedly. "I have the invisibility cloak this week! We can use it to get down there after dark."

"Lovely! I love using that cloak," Lorcan says, sounding as excited as I feel.

We continue recording the moon's state and craters. One of us will occasionally sneak glances at Hagrid, who begins to speak into the water, his bushy beard trembling as his lips move. Whatever it is that's in that lake, I hope we find out tonight.

Lorcan and I head to the Transfiguration classroom after Astrology. Scorpius is late, of course, but Anna is there, sitting on one of the desks looking shyly around. She smiles at Lorcan when we enter; of course, ignoring me entirely.

"Good late-day to you two!" Professor Haas says from behind her desk. She looks slightly flustered, as if she'd been running around the castle recently.

"Good evening," I say back, Lorcan nodding his head in agreement next to me.

"I wish we could start without Scorpius," she says. "I'm so anxious to tell all of you I can hardly stand it."

As if on cue, the doors open again and in lumbers Scorpius, looking as if he'd just woken up and accidently wandered in. "Hello," he says. Like Anna, he ignores me.

"Late," Professor Haas says happily, "or right on time, in your language."

Lorcan and I laugh, but everyone else remains somber. "Some people forgot to take their Cheering Charms this morning," I whisper to Lorcan. He laughs throatily.

"Well, let's get to it then." Professor Haas stands and pulls out from under her desk, of all things, a fish bowl. "So far in Transfiguration you've learned about human-animal transformations. If you did your homework right, you would know that there is more than one way to turn into an animal. Well, more than two, actually. An Animangus can turn at will, without a wand, and becomes an animal best reflecting his or her physical appearance."

For a moment, I remember the story of Peter Pettigrew, who looked like a rat, acted like a rat, and turned into a rat. When I was little, I thought it was a story. It was only later that I learned it was real.

"The spell you will learn this year turns you into an animal reflecting your inner character, yata yata, you know these things. Well, I'm about to make you remember a spell you learned in fifth year, I think. It will turn you into any animal of your choosing for an hour at maximum. This spell is perfect for the second task, where you will be asked to turn into—"

The Professor stops suddenly, points her cherry-wood wand at her head, flashes a brilliant smile, and then promptly turns into—

"A _goldfish?" _Scorpius asks, as outraged as I'm sure we all feel. "We have to turn into a _goldfish _for this task? I think I might drop out."

The small fish swims around merrily in her glass bowl, doing a little show-flip for us, at which Scorpius scoffs. He points his wand at the bowl, silently sending a spell that causes the Professor to magically appear back where she stood, soaking wet and grinning like a mad woman.

"Thank you, Scorpius," she smiles. "It is ever so fun to be a fish."

I laugh, but I'm the only one. Everyone else looks partly paralyzed.

"Oh, come on!" the Professor says. "You don't have to turn into a _goldfish, _for heaven's sake. You can turn into any water-breathing animal you want. All you have to do is survive in the lake for an hour, long enough to find a single flower."

"Just a flower? What's the point in that?" Anna asks. I agree.

"It's a very _special _flower. It will reveal the solution to the fourth task, which is by far the most challenging."

"So, I can turn into a freshwater salmon?" Lorcan asks. I laugh, but he is quite serious.

"Anything you wish," the Professor says. "Rose could turn into an Asian Arowana, Anna a Bottlenose Dolphin. And in Scorpius's case, he could turn into a Red Devil Piranha."

We all laugh hysterically. Even Scorpius grins, and sensing that the meeting is over, leaves promptly. Probably to go research fish breeds.

"The lake has magical properties," Professor Haas says as Lorcan and I turn to leave, "so it doesn't matter if the fish is salt or freshwater. The lake supports them both."

Lorcan and I stroll down the empty hallways, our footsteps echoing against the walls. The castle is eerily silent. Better for our mission, I suppose. We make our way up to the Head Dorm quickly. When we arrive at the portrait, I hear Lorcan let out a small 'oh'.

"Didn't you used to be horribly ugly?" Lorcan asks the portrait lady blatantly. She smiles evilly down at him.

"I am still ugly, dear," she says. "I will only be beautiful when my inner struggles are resolved."

She is still horribly ugly, but not as much as before. The excess hair has vanished from her face for the most part, leaving it soft and shiny. Her mole returned, though, and it has now sprouted a small hair that is visible from a distance.

"Secret, dear?" she says. I don't even have to think to know my answer.

"Moles repulse me," I say. She smiles and swings forward. It's as if she feeds on even the smallest of secrets, I swear.

Lorcan waits down in the common room while I run up to get the cloak. The material is cool between my fingers, and it will offer no protection against the outside air. I am reaching for my coat when a cool voice, cooler than even the material of invisibility, floats into the room.

"Sneaking out?" Scorpius asks. He is standing in the doorway, clashing thoroughly with the bright gold and red of the room, looking thoroughly nonchalant. I fume at just the sight of him.

"None of your business," I say. He smirks evilly. He probably has a plan, or he wouldn't be up here.

"Well, it will be my business when you sneak off grounds and I have to report you," he says. "You might lose your headship if you're lucky."

"I could throttle you right now," I say between clenched teeth. I feel like ripping him to shreds, he is so infuriating. Despite welcoming the revulsion between us, opposed to the polite silences, it doesn't stop me from wanting him to die.

"Please do," he says kindly. "It would save me from having to look at your repugnant face."

I glare daggers at him. His hands are tucked into his jeans, back against the doorframe, as if he threatens people daily. "What do you want?"

"I want to know about this task as much as you do."

"Well, I can't help you there."

"Oh, but you can."

"What can I do?"

"You can take me down to Hagrid's with you. I'm sure he'll reveal some lovely information to share." I flinch at his words. He knows, and must have overheard us in Astronomy class.

"Yeah, well you can't come."

"Okay, then I'll just report that you've left grounds with the freak downstairs."

I sigh desperately. There is no hope of getting out of this. I want to talk to Hagrid badly, but I can't do it without Scorpius reporting foul play.

"Don't you dare be rude," I threaten. He smirks and waits for me to grab my coat before following me downstairs.

"We have an addition to the team," I say to Lorcan. He's sitting on the couch, and look up, his eyes falling on Scorpius.

"Okay," Lorcan says. I just want to hug him; he looks as if he was expecting it. I smile brightly at him, throw the cloak around us both and head for the portrait hole. I grudgingly allow Scorpius to join us under the cloak as we near the front doors of the castle. I know for a fact that this will be pure torture.

The walk alone is almost unbearable. Being so used to being around Lorcan, I hardly notice him beside me. But Scorpius is a whole different thing. He smells so fresh and clean, it's so amazing I can't even describe it. His breath comes in warm white swirls of air. It tickles the back of my neck, sending tingles up my spine. How can I stay mad at him when I am so enamored with the emotions he's evoking?

Hagrid's hut is lit. I can hear Fang barking as we approach, and before we even take to the steps, the door opens. Over the years, Hagrid has grown older. There is now a fair share of silver hairs in his bushy hair and beard, his eyes wrinkled, his hands rougher, his coat floppier. Age, if anything, has made him tougher. There has always been something indescribably kind in Hagrid's eyes, but there's also something that says he's seen things, horrible things, that have scarred him.

"Wha' you lot doin' here?" he asks. We've just thrown off the cloak, Hagrid eyeing Scorpius warily, Fang lolling about at our feet.

"Just come to say hi to our favorite professor," I say cheerily. I try a smile, but Hagrid frowns.

"No' that you'd come to any o' my classes, you." His voice is sad. I stopped taking Care of Magical Creatures in my fifth year. "Your parents were the same."

"We love your classes, Hagrid! We had to think of our future, and none of us were interested in being game keeper." I smile sheepishly as Lorcan adds, "I still take your class."

"Thanks for the help," I whisper in his ear.

"An' what's with the Malfoy?" Hagrid asks. I'm grateful for the subject change, but this is fine ground to tread, too.

"We, uh, decided to—"

"We wanted to know about the first task," Scorpius cuts in. I'm about to hit him, but stop when I see Hagrid's face break out in a huge grin.

"'Bout time someone asked!" And with that he pulls us, not into the warm cabin, but out to the freezing lake. He takes us to the spot Lorcan and I saw him crouching earlier. I am wary, if anything.

"So, you'll tell us, then?" Scorpius asks. He looks pleased with himself.

"Wha'?" Hagrid looks around at us. "Oh, no, no, o' course not."

He didn't seem like he meant it, though. At the edge of the lake he tapped three times in the water. Ripples echoed in the water, going out further and further, and right when the first ripple reached the very far edge of the lake, a disturbance in the water made us all jump.

In the water, right where Hagrid had tapped, was a mermaid. I had seen the mermaids in the lake before, only a few times, poking the Giant Squid with long spears. The mermaids I'd seen were scaly and green, quite ugly, with long tentacles for hair and wide, alien-like eyes. The mermaid before us was nothing close to the ugly creatures of Hogwart's. She had long white hair that fanned out in the water and seemed to continue to the tip of her protruding tail. Her tail, slim and silver, reflected white in the moonlight. Her eyes were gray, old and weary, but they were beautiful. She was beautiful.

"She won' look like this, come the time when you lot'll jump in the lake," Hagrid said. His eyes were glued, not to the mermaid, but to the opposite side of the lake. "She'll be pretty as can be."

I thought she was already pretty, though I didn't say it. Weren't we supposed to be looking for a flower, not a mermaid?

Scorpius asked exactly that. I stared at the opposite side of the lake, trying to see what Hagrid was looking for, but only saw wave's wash silver up on the pebble shore. The mermaid, most likely annoyed at the lack of attention, immersed herself under the water again. Hagrid stood up with us, walking us back towards his hut.

"You be lookin' for a flower," he said, a grin on his face. "She's a beautiful flower, too."

The mischievous smile remained on his face as he invited us in for tea and rock cakes. Scorpius, unknowing of Hagrid's cooking, took one and bit into it. Lorcan and I both snorted into our tea when he chipped a tooth, and Hagrid claimed his pink umbrella wand wasn't working when he set the temperature.

Hagrid, Lorcan and I laughed pleasantly with each other, but Scorpius remained solemn. I was glad. Maybe he'd learn his lesson. It seemed he had come to the conclusion that it was stupid for him to come.

Something told me that it wasn't bad idea that we came.

XX

** Reviews are welcome!**

**Chloe**


	11. Chapter 11

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**Also, would any of you be interested in reading a sequel? Please let me know in a review!**

XX

Over the next week leading up to the second task, my mind simply could not be cleared of the night at Hagrid's. The image of the mermaid stuck in my head, so wrong in the mossy lake, and Hagrid's words about the flower, his smug smile, replayed over and over again. I resolved not to forget what happened that night, as it might be vital to the task. I spent my nights in the library, looking up fish.

I knew the order the tasks would present themselves in. Gryffindor's had passed already, and I had failed. But the next task was Ravenclaw's, and even though I wasn't in that house, I felt sure that I was just as much of a Ravenclaw as Lorcan was. Slytherin's was the third task…. I could imagine the look on Scorpius's face if I won that one. It might have been a rumor, but I heard that there were going to be partner's for the last two tasks. I wasn't going to get my hopes up, however. Fourth and finally was Hufflepuff's task, rumored to be the hardest of them all. If I didn't win one of those tasks by a large margin, I was doomed to failure.

For the first time in a while, Al and I hung out together. Lorcan sometimes sat with us, but I couldn't blame him when he left to do some research of his own, not wanting to be copied or to copy. Al and I spent our nights in the library, pulling down books on fish, him finally acknowledging that I was even a champion in the first place. The nights reminded me of our friendship we had before, closer every day, and half the time it was because we had few friends besides each other. I will love him forever, but it seems that this year, he is growing irretrievably distant.

I managed to put aside this, however, for the week. I had a sense of impending doom about the upcoming task. It was important, more important than ever, because if I didn't win this one I might as well quit now. Al pulled down about a dozen books on fish, three of which were magical fishwhile I briskly read through the dusty pages. It seemed I was better off choosing a muggle fish. Most of the magical fish had some sort of unpleasant attribute to them, such as warts instead of gills, or the tendency to sink in cold water.I looked for the best fish, most intimidating fish, and the overall smartest fish. It may have been silly to put so much thought into it, but I wanted it to be that way. I _had _to win this.

"Hey, Rose, look at this one," Al said. He had stopped pulling down books and now sat on the dusty window seal, washed in the afternoon sunlight, reading through a rather large gray book entitled _The Best of the Freshwater._

"I swear Al, if it's another goldfish, I'm going to kill you," I say as I walk over to him. "I _told _you they're more pathetic than any."

"What about a sardine?" he jokes. "And no, it's not another goldfish. It's a carp fish, and they're supposed to be really smart and fast. This breed's called a _koi."_

I look at the page he's at. The fish is huge, three feet in length, with a slightly swollen belly and whiskers like a catfish. The three of them on the page are in different colors, one golden, one black and orange and white, and one white. The book describes them as the king of freshwater fish. I take the book from Al to look at it more closely.

"What do you think?" Al asks.

I nod in approval, still studying the page.

"I like them. They look tough."

"They're pretty, too," I of the corner of my eye, I see Al sigh, but I can't figure out why.

"Yeah, well, you're a sucker for pretty things. So I take it you're going to choose that one?"

"I don't know yet," I say. "Pretty isn't enough for me, despite your impression, Albus."

"Well, it doesn't list any magical properties in the book…," Albus says, but I'm one step ahead of him. I pull out three more books and look up koi, and one of them, it turns out, has a small paragraph on the magical properties of the fish.

"Listen to this, Al," I say, picking up the book. "_Koi fish are gentle, patient animals, found in rivers or streams, though they can travel to most bodies of water. They are graceful and lithe, covered in beautiful blue and purple scales. Graceful and full of healing powers, koi fishes are generally overlooked, but their magic, though subtle, is extremely valuable. The owner of any such fish will find, if they swim with their sweet pet, that the koi fish enables the master to breath under water for short periods of time. This aids a magi greatly in searches for rare eggs beneath the waves._"

"Well, there you go," Albus says. "Now, if you get injured, you can magically heal!"

I sense some sarcasm in his voice, so I just ignore his comment entirely. "Will you help me change?"

He nods. "I need to practice first, though. I don't want to accidently turn you into a turtle or something."

I laugh. "As long as it can breathe underwater, I don't care if you turn me into a scorpion."

He mumbles something that sounds like 'I do'. I just laugh again. I take all of the books except the one with the koi in it and place them back on the shelf. I wave goodbye to Madam Pince, the librarian, and Al and I head back to my dorm.

"You have no idea how creepy you are," Al bluntly tells the portrait as we approach. The hag just smiles and asks for a secret from me. It's odd that I haven't run out yet.

"Uh, Albus used a wand when he was little and shrunk his mum," I giggle. Al looks horrified.

"Rose! She asked for _your _secret!"

But the portrait hag just grins and says, "Good enough."

Al mumbles all the way up to my room.

After a while of practicing on pillows (which Professor Haas told me would help get the spell right, even if the pillow didn't so much as lose a seam), Al deems himself ready to try it on me. I fetch a glass bowl, large enough to accommodate ten large goldfish, and stand in front of it. I really hope I don't flop onto the floor and die of lack of water.

"Ready?" Al says. He looks slightly pale, and I'm pretty sure I am as well. I certainly don't want anything to go wrong.

I nod, and just like that his wand is upon me. For a moment I think I've passed out. But then I realize that everything is just incredibly blurry, as if I'm-

Oh my god, I'm a fish.

I blink once and immediately a film falls over my eyes, making everything as clear as if I was on land. I feel the need to swim around, so I do a couple of laps around the bowl, and find my lungs relieved with the movement, as if they needed it to breathe. I can see my reflection in the side of the bowl, a bright crimson with flecks of gold, and I am absolutely gigantic. I fill up nearly the entire bowl. I feel the water vibrate, as if with footsteps, and then suddenly I am shocked to see a green eye the size of a blimp staring at me. I know it's Al's eye. Oddly, I feel like laughing, so I blow a few bubbles and swim around a few times for show. There's more vibrating and I know he's laughing.

I feel absolutely extravagant here. I am in my element, submerged beneath it, and I never have to come up for air again. I might just stay here forever. I remember that I have an entire hour all to myself in here. I suddenly feel much happier than a fish should be allowed.

I watch through my bowl as Al picks a few things out of his bag and settles down to do his homework. I am completely content with swimming around and around in my bowl. I always thought that fish got depressed in a confined glass bowl, but I guess you have to know more than just your bowl to want more than your bowl. Right now, all I know is swimming, around and around, and I would like nothing more than to continue to do so forever.

I start to feel slightly breathless, and I know that my hour is almost up. My breathing comes long and shallow, and I feel suddenly very large and awkward. Right as I'm about to swell to my human shape, I leap from the water and land on my back, on the floor, no longer a fish.

"I think I did the spell a little _too _well," Al says. His voice is cocky, but I can tell he's relieved he didn't screw it up.

"That was _amazing!" _I exclaim. It truly was, too. Looking back on it now feels as if I've remembered a story I read some time ago. It doesn't feel real, being here or remembering being a fish, as if I'm half way between the two worlds.

"You're a really fat fish," Al says, grinning.

"All the better for beating Malfoy with!"

We laugh together. I get to my feet and try to head over to the bed, but my knees keep wobbling underneath me, and after four attempts I make it. Al is in such a state of hysterics that I have to whack him over the head with his book to get him to shut up. His eyes water, which makes me laugh just as much as he did.

I pull out my copy of _Spellman's Express Spell Book _and settle down to do my charms homework. It isn't long. It seems the closer the date of the second task gets, the lighter workload I get. I suppose it's the same for the other student's. But I somehow think I'm getting less, as Al works for three hours on his when I work only for one. But that might just be because I'm the smarter one here.

While Al finishes up his homework, I head out onto the balcony, the crescent moon high in the sky. The entire marble balcony is drenched in silver. I breathe in the precious scent of roses, the scent I cherish so much, and lean myself against the railing. The night is pristine. I can see the lake, white and black in the night, still and cool. Hagrid's hut is bright and warm. On the opposite side of me, Scorpius's balcony, the light is on. The drapes are pulled away. And inside, Scorpius and Anna Macmillan are in a full-fledged make-out session.

I can't help but give a small yelp of surprise. Thankfully, Scorpius doesn't even bat an eyelash. Instead he just runs a second hand up Anna's shirt and pressed her against the bed. I feel like puking. I feel like laughing. I feel like crying.

"Rose?" Albus's voice comes from behind me. I turn around to see him staring, not at me, but at Scorpius and Anna. "They don't exactly try to hide it, do they?"

"What do you mean? Do they do this often?" I ask indignantly.

"Well, no, it's sort of a recent thing. I thought you knew." His eyes flash recognition when he looks at me. He realizes his mistake too late. I can feel my eyes threatening to overflow with anger and sadness. I turn my back towards the lake again, avoiding both Albus and Scorpius's window.

"Oh, Rosie, I'm sorry. I didn't think." He comes over and hugs my shoulders. I feel like a blubbering baby. Why am I sad anyways? Scorpius and I haven't talked in two months. Something like this shouldn't affect me at all….but it is.

"No—No, I don't care. I don't care in the slightest!" I say a little too loud. "It's—It's Lorcan I'm worried about."

"Lorcan?"

"Yeah, he really likes Anna. I think he was going to ask her to the ball. But—but now that this is…. Now that Scorpius has….." I trail off. All of this is a blatant lie, of course, but I'm not even sure why I'm making up a cover story. I haven't been around Scorpius at all lately…. But seeing this brings back drowned emotions to the surface. I'm not up to admitting my buried feelings for Scorpius in any way shape or form.

"Oh, I see. Well, Lorcan will get over it. He's a strong lad." I think Al knows I'm lying. In fact, I'm sure he knows it, but I am utterly grateful for the fact that he goes along with my lie. Maybe he knows how horrible the truth is. Or maybe, as would be more likely this year, he just doesn't want to face the truth himself.

"I'm not so sure. He really, really likes Anna." I sniffle a bit, grateful that Al isn't looking at my face.

"Well he just has to like someone new. That'll help him get over Anna. She's a slut anyways."

"What if he can't find someone new? What if he can't forget about Anna?""If he can't find someone new, he has to find someone better." It was as simple as that, yet it felt so entirely complex.

"There is no one better," I mumble. I say it so softly it disappears in the cold breeze. Al takes his arms from around me and gives me a quick pat. He says he has to go. And when he does leave, I feel the most lonely I've ever felt in my entire life.

Scorpius's room is dark now. I'm grateful for that fact, if nothing else. Tears have finally made their way down my cheeks, a mixture of sadness and anger and jealousy all together. There is so much pain in admitting the obvious truth to myself. Maybe I wasn't Scorpius's only target. Maybe he was planning on manipulating Anna as well. I wasn't the only opponent he wanted to manipulate, and by manipulating Anna he somehow got to me by doing so. Maybe he was trying to get under my skin and make me jealous by pretending to like Anna, as well as making Anna fail in the same way he tried to do to me. It makes me feel almost shameful that I had believed myself his only target. He may have kissed her so I would get jealous, but he also kissed her because I wasn't his only target anymore. Maybe he had just switched his sites last minute after I failed the first task so miserably….or because of our argument. Maybe he thought I lost all interest in him after that, even though we've had arguments like that before.

However, I feel some sort of sense of accomplishment that I had not given into his façade. And I won't give in this time. I had figured it out and fought back as best I could, and this time I will do the same. I know his plan now. All the better for me to get under his skin and make him stumble.

And like Al said, all the better for me to move on for good.

_In my dreams I found myself at the edge of a forest._

_You know that feeling, that mysterious intent and intrigue, which fills you when you think of the forest? For me it usually only fills me in dreams and thoughts. When I would read of the woods, of the dense forest with light on the shimmering shades of green, I would think of dark woods and tall trees, filled with creatures that hid under your bed at night, in the damp bark now. Thinking of the jungle reminded me of the wild, untamed things that were more exotic than a forest, far beyond damp bark and dewy leaves. In the rainforest I dreamt of the beauty of the Amazon, striking colors and intricate creations, not woody or earthy but simply untamed and thriving. _

_To me the forest described all the darkness in the world, not dark as in evil or monstrous, but dark as in mysterious, dark as in shadows across a white wall, dark as in the shade of a tree, dark as in the feelings you feel when you are curious and know that nothing good will come from the curiosity. But there is adventure in the thicket beyond, and adventure is all that matters in that moment, no matter the consequences. _

XX


	12. Chapter 12

**Reviews are amazing, and so is Lida (forever4) my editor!**

XX

The morning comes, and the image of adventure seems faded from my mind. I sit up in the bed, breathing in the morning, just wondering of the previous night. It seemed adventure enough for me. Whether Scorpius has recent plans to manipulate me or not, I'm not intent on playing along by his rules this time.

As I get dressed I remembered Scorpius. In my mind's eye I remembered when I first met him, both of us clumsy and bumbling and incredibly proud, on the first train ride to Hogwarts. I sat with Al, Lorcan, Hugo, and a small and striking Pamela Patil whom had decided to sit with us. Scorpius had managed to make it to our compartment with his incredibly heavy luggage, and feeling it was my duty to begin being kind, I stepped out to help him. I remember thinking of my father's advice, finding it had gone to heart, and quickly saying goodbye to the small blonde-haired boy. He had looked hurt and confused in his lonely compartment, seeing me leave so suddenly. He had no idea how scared I was of becoming friendly with him. And I have never seen him look so dejected since.

Our first year was simple, both of us top of the class, both of us immediately determined to please. The Professor's all loved us. We didn't seem to notice each other much, the school being as big as it was, and only acknowledged each other as another student whom we did not fraternize with. That was the only year things were ever normal between us.

After a summer away from completion, we both found ourselves back at the school, more determined than ever to be the very best. Suddenly, the school didn't seem as big. There were kids below us now, little first years that seemed impossibly small, and our already inflated heads began to expand rapidly. Scorpius excelled in Charms and Potions. I excelled in Transfiguration and Herbology. While we were both shared those classes, the relation stopped there. Scorpius made his way to the top by being charming and complimentary, while also being incredibly quick-witted and deft. He was able to win over Professors Ramsey and Tremblay with his confidence and praise. I was able to win over Professor Haas and Professor Codwallow with sheer excellence. Instead of his method, I was simply smart, and like my mother answered nearly every question asked. I may not have sucked up to the teacher; in fact, I might have been quite annoying in my constant hand-raising. But the teachers admired brilliance, and I was the very image of it.

In this, this equality between us, be it in praise from a Professor or from the admiration and irritation of peers, we both realized who our rival was. In a way, I was relieved that Scorpius hadn't become my friend. I took heed of my dad's warning, and I didn't want to start going back on what I had promised myself the very first time I met him. So, come the end of the second year, we were bitter enemies and without warrant to ever become friends.

Through third year, with the addition of new classes, we were at each other's throat for the top spot. Our peers and teachers considered us equal, but there was always the threat of them assuming one of us was better. Come fourth year, we became even more competitive in our strive to beat each other, often having duels in the hallways or having yelling matches at a Quidditch match (which neither of us played in, but both of us had good friends in). In fifth year something began to change. We both got awarded prefect badges, both of us even _more _resolute to show up the other, but somehow the summer had changed us differently than it usually did. Instead of trying to win over the top spot in class and beat the other, we were somehow determined to win over the other and beat out the unyielding hatred between us. Our fights became less passionate, our struggle for the top spot less vital, and our rude remarks towards the other's family (somehow blood purity was not as important to us as insulting the blood, be it pureblood or not) less cruel. Whenever I found myself in the library, I found Scorpius there, sitting politely beside me, not even trying to write a longer report than mine. And in time I found myself doing the same. We were in the prefect dorm together, in the library together, even on the grounds by the lake together. Very few words were ever exchanged. At that point I think we were far from friendship, so no one ever mistook us for friends. I don't even think that we thought we were friends. But we, the two most stubborn and ambitious people in the school, were determined to win the hardest victory of all: each other.

It shocked me how similar it is this year. We're both trying to win each other over…. But this time, it's to win something better. Or at least, we were. I'm not so sure about it now, as Scorpius seems to have completely given up on me.

The morning was harder than most. Thankfully, when I finally made my way downstairs, Scorpius was long gone and the common room was quiet. The morning light had just made its way inside. And that's when it hit me, like a blasting spell that sucked the air out of every inch of my body—

Today was the day of the task. And I had exactly one hour to prepare.

At first my mind was numb. I just managed to walk to the portrait hole and open it before it really hit me; Al could not do the spell, I had to do it, and I had no time to practice it last night. I am shocked I didn't realize this sooner…. All morning I had been reminiscing, and I completely forgot that today was the task.

I felt like breaking down right here.

When I open the portrait hole, there's Lorcan, his blonde head firmly staring ahead of him at the concrete wall in deep thought. Ok, now I could almost break down. He looked so wonderful, the light just hitting him on his golden hair, looking as if there wasn't anything to be worried about. At that point I wish there wasn't anything to be worried about. But there was, and it was only an hour away.

"Oh my God, Lorcan!" I cry. "I slept in! I only have an hour until the task starts! Help me!"

I sound so pathetic, I'm sure. But he simply says, "Ok. Let's get down to the lake."

The lake. Oh, well, I can't exactly go in my clothes to the lake. Without warning I shoot up the stairs back into my room (thankfully the portrait lets me through without question) and rip open my trunk. I grab the metallic blue swimsuit my mom packed, magically put it on under my clothes, then dash back down with my wand in my pocket. It could have only taken me a minute at most, and I am completely breathless.

"Don't wear yourself out, Rose," Lorcan says seriously. "You do have to hold your breath for an hour, after all."

I smile despite myself. "Yes, yes. But I don't know the spell! Albus did it for me yesterday and I don't remember what it was."

"_Humangus Minutteras." _That's the spell. Lorcan knows the spell.

"Oh, I could kiss you!" I disappear into the hall, his footsteps following close behind. I could sing right now. I may not know the exact mindset of the spell, but at least I know the words. I can always go from there.

Before the front doors are even opened by Lorcan, I can already feel the freezing air that's seeped into the cracks. I can't imagine swimming in this weather. I may be a fish at the time, but I doubt even a whale could stand to be in cold this intense.

I think this before I even get out of the doors. And once I'm out in the open, I know I can't possibly swim in this. The air feels like it's never felt warmth before. Immediately I'm sorry I'm only in my jeans and a sweatshirt. I think not even Hagrid could stand this cold. The very grass beneath my feet is cold, solid with frozen dew. The sky is a misty gray. It's by far the coldest day of the year.

I can hear Professor McGonagall announcing over a _sonorous _spell how cold it is. At the edge of the lake everyone is in the stands, the two other champions already at the edge of the lake, in position and in their swimsuits. In fact, Scorpius is in a very _small _swimsuit. I can't help but notice this as I make my way down, Lorcan at my side. I can't help but notice his defined muscles either, but I make myself look away. More distractions.

I make Lorcan repeat the spell to me twice before I give him a kiss for good luck and head we down to the dock, side by side. Everyone cheers as we take our place beside Anna and Scorpius.

"Late much?" Scorpius asks when I step beside him. In one hand I am clinging Lorcan, and in the other is my wand. I am tempted to use it on Malfoy.

"Thanks for the wake-up call, Malfoy," I say. The sarcasm practically seeps into the frigid air.

"You'll be sorry you even woke up, Weasley," he says. And with that the bell tolls and the Professor announces to step forth.

"Welcome, champions!" she says with a sonorous spell on her voice. "Today you will face Ravenclaw's task! You all know that you must transform into a water-breathing animal, but that's all the direction you have been given so far! But I'm telling you now: head to the bottom of the lake. You will know what to do when you see it."

Professor Haas smiles suspiciously, which makes my stomach turn in a knot. I feel dazed as I make my way into the edge of the water. My toes scream in protest the moment they touch the water. I'm surprised the lake isn't frozen over, as it's well below freezing point now. But if it's magical….

We all reach the deep water together. My feet can no longer touch the sand, and only Lorcan is able to stand up. I pick up my wand, trying to concentrate in the cold, trying to make my brain function, trying to ignore the others beside me, and mutter the spell through chattering teeth and blue lips.

And then, quite suddenly, I am completely comfortable. Not only am I completely submerged, but my eyes and ears can see and hear everything. The water is no longer cold. In fact, I am almost warm. I immediately make my way to the bottom of the sand, and close up it looks larger than I thought. The sand is nothing but grains upon grains of different colors, continuing on in the clear lake until the drop off. I swim as fast as I can. Something about being an animal dulls my senses, making me able to only remember one or two things, and right now all I can think of is that I am immensely grateful I transformed fine, and that I have to keep swimming. I'm slightly glad that Professor Haas didn't have us use a bubble head charm, or eat a plant to grow gills like Uncle Harry. It was supposed to be a 'challenging project' for our 7th year, but I find it much easier to think and feel comfortable when I really am a fish.

I am somehow aware of the other fish nearby. The lake is otherwise desolate, inhabited only by the mermaids I know exist, and the four fish that now swim in its waters. I keep the sand at least three inches beneath my stomach the whole way there. And where 'there' was, I'm still not sure.

The lake is beautiful. The weeds that resemble kelp rise up in forests, and it gives me the feeling I always find when coming to the edge of one. It is a forest, dark and mysterious, like any other. I struggle into it, clamped between the weeds, making my way towards the instinct that was calling in my mind.

When I am halfway into the kelp, I hear something. Or rather, I feel it, through the vibrations in the water similar to the waves of sound in the air. It is large, I can tell, and very close by. I bury myself deeper in the kelp and keep an eye out for the surrounding water. And there, not five yards away, I see the most frightening animal I've ever seen in my life.

It is large, with teeth that protrude from its upper lip in sharp rows. That is the most intimidating thing. At once I know it's magical, three times the size of an average shark, and five times as frightening. It is black as a large shadow and largely terrible. I remember my dream of the forest…. Of mystery and intrigue, of towering trees and the promise of adventure. So far this vision matches the kelp perfectly. But suddenly this dark and terrible monster is here, flooding my vision, and making me forget my dream forest. Right now, I want terribly to flee from it. But this is my forest. It is my forest, and I have to keep swimming.

It was Scorpius, of course. No other creature can be so terrible or inflict so much terror. I swim closer than ever to the sand, keeping one eye on the shark and one ahead, swimming for my life and faster than I ever have before.

Had I been in the Forbidden Forest outside Hogwarts grounds, seen this monster, and fled, I would have been terrified out of my mind. But here, under the water, in my element, I am far from fear. In fact, I am above it, towering over it, keeping myself from it simply because I know who I am here. I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else. It may not be my house task, but it is my element through and through. I am suddenly sure I was going to win. That's when I see her. The mermaid, tall and strong, her silver-white hair no longer silver, but a color that is indescribable but spoke of every beautiful color in the world. Her entire body spoke of beauty. She was beyond description in the fact that she seemed ethereal, so beautiful it was simply impossible for her to be of this planet. I swim toward her, intoxicated as she watches me with golden eyes, as her richly-colored hand reaches forward to touch me. I let her. How can I not?

But I am not alone anymore. There were the three others, all blinded in the mermaid's light, all delirious and unable to concentrate on the competition. There is Scorpius, his hulking body no longer frightening as he was before, now that his eyes are glassy and stupid looking. Lorcan is a slim golden fish, speedy and long, his eyes glistening. And Anna, who is a magical fish who seems to turn purple every five seconds, but is otherwise gray. We are all spellbound.

Then the mermaid begins to sing.

_I sing of the beauty_

_That lies in a flower_

_You will find her_

_Before the end of the hour_

_She doesn't hide, only seek_

_The place she hides lies within your reach_

_Don't flee, just see_

_The world in which you now belong to me_

She repeats her song three times and then retreats to her throne. It is marble, dull and lifeless beneath her glory. No one left. Everyone sat, intoxicated beneath her gaze, a gaze that no one can possibly break. Her song rings in my ears, echoing through the water.

They all begin to break away. First it is Scorpius, determined to win. Then Lorcan, who finds he's seen and heard more interesting things, and Anna, who breaks away from sheer power of will. I sit and stare, not because I am under a spell, but because I find I have to stay. There is something more to her song that I cannot) describe. It's a riddle; that much is obvious. But there is something I can't describe in it. Something beautiful that it sang for, and none of the lake can hold such splendor.

Except for this mermaid. Unlike the green kelpies that live among the water, she is beautiful, otherworldly beautiful, and is possibly the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on. The flower she described was beautiful, and I have a feeling the lake can't hold such a thing.

I remember what Hagrid said of the flower when he was looking at the mermaid a few nights ago. He had talked of its beauty, with that look in his eyes that hid the truth. This is the mermaid he looked at when he knew the truth. And the truth lies before me, hidden beneath the beauty of her skin, and I have to get it.

I swim forward slowly. My idea might be crazy, but I have to do it because I have no other choice. It's beyond my control whether it works or not. If it does work, I win. If it doesn't, I am so far behind there is no way I can do anything to retrieve my loss.

To my absolute astonishment, I am briefly stopped, as if by an invisible field of water. In that moment several things happen. For one, the mermaid begins to glow, becoming enveloped in a wall of white light. She then begins to change, slowly, gradually, as if in a metamorphosis.

And then I know, without a doubt, that I am right, because the mermaid turns into a beautiful flower.

It takes me only a moment to process it. At first I am stunned. Then, as I slowly swim forward, I realize I am relieved. I knew that if I lost this, I would lose it all. Now I have won. Now, nothing stands in the way of me winning this whole thing.

Except the big black shark that has suddenly reappeared.

Scorpius has come to take what is rightfully mine. I am furious with indignation, as it was mine the first place, and he doesn't deserve this prize let alone the first one. If he steals it all…. After everything he's done to me, deceived and lied and cheated, he is in no way going to cheat me out of something again. He's cheated me out of my dignity and my very heart, but he will _not _cheat me out of this.

I glare at him, as much as a fish is allowed to glare, then rush forward in a stream of bubbles, dodging under his vast leathery belly towards the kelp forest. At once I am out of his grasp, into the weeds and out of site. At least for now.

The flower, gripped between my mouth lightly, begins to pulse rapidly. Before I can assess what it means, Scorpius rushes me from behind the kelp, snatching for the flower just moments after I have turned. I swim upwards now, my only hope of escape being if I can reach the top first. I can _feel _him swimming after me. If I was bigger and stronger than him, I would want nothing more than to turn and rip him to shreds. But I have something he doesn't have: sure speed. I can see the surface now. It dances just above the tall shoots, glittering on the water, just begging for me to reach it. I know I have a long way before the hour ends. But if I can just let people see that it's me that got the flower first, then maybe I can win, even if Scorpius overpowers me in the end.

But he won't overpower me. Suddenly I can no longer feel the waves from his momentum, nor can I feel anything within the water besides my own movement. He is nowhere. I wonder if he is waiting out the attack under deeper cover….. But no. There is no movement at all, not even the smallest, within five hundred yards of myself.

He gave up, simple as that. Maybe I was out swimming him, and he didn't want to risk anyone seeing him take the flower from my grip.

I make it to the surface without the slightest hint that I'm wrong. And despite being unscathed, I am deeply troubled by something I can't place. Something's amiss here. Why would Scorpius just give up like that? There's no reason I can think of.

When I break the surface I immediately see the clock. I was wrong. The very second my head is above water the hour ends, and I am suddenly beyond cold. Shivering violently, I make my way to the shore where the dock is, where hundreds of people are screaming my name.

The flower is still gripped in my mouth, as I need both hands to swim. I'm pulled onto the deck by dozens of hands, which immediately start groping me, patting me on the back, hugging me, and assessing my scars. I try to tell them all to stop, but I am shivering so hard I can barely move my limbs, let alone speak.

Someone takes the flower from my mouth in the confusion. I manage to shout, simply because I feel robbed of everything. That flower means victory to me, and to me that is everything I desire. Someone reassures me they're only putting the flower in a safe place, but I continue to cry out for it. It belongs to _me, _and me alone.

"Rose! Oh my goodness, Rose, look at you!" I hear Caroline's voice in the midst of the crowd, deeply concerned, yet a concern that sets my nerves on edge.

"Rose?" comes Al's voice as well. I feel grateful for him, if anyone.

They lift me up to my feet, a feat I probably couldn't have done by myself. I'm pulled back to a tent that's pitched along the bank, large and obviously not magical. Unfortunately the tent is as cold as the air outside. Even the four beds within look cold as ice. I glare enviously at Al and Caroline, who are clothed head to toe in warm clothes and look perfectly content to drag me into the tent. I can hear the people on the outside of the tent, chanting my name, and I smile despite the unbearable cold in my bones.

"C-c-can I -h-h-have a w-w-warming c-charm, please?" I plead through chattering teeth. Unfortunately, Al and Caroline ignore me and plunk me on the bed, pull the covers up around me, and step back and _stare. _I could be dying of hypothermia with the cure right in front of me and they wouldn't do anything about it!

"Oh, Rosie, we're sorry," Caroline says. "We were told not to do anything until Madam Pomfrey got here.

"T-t-thanks," I say. Even though they seem truly sorry, I am _freezing, _and unless I get warm soon I might just have to chop off a toe. Maybe I'll make Al and Caroline do it just to make them feel bad….. In any case, I sit for the next five minutes in freezing pain.

"Oh, you poor dear!" In a swirl of robes, Madam Pomfrey is by my bedside, looking as if she's about to witness a death. I _will_ die, I think, if I don't get a warming charm soon! "Here you go, darling."

In an instant I am warmed as if someone has just poured hot water over me. I think the warming charm is probably the best magic ever invented. I sigh loudly as my very bones heat up. Immediately I fall back into the warm bed, now grateful to be under the covers.

"I don't see why we couldn't have done it ourselves," Al protests.

"Well, neither do I, but it's Ministry regulations," Madam Pomfrey says.

Al tells me the scores. I came in first, with 24. Then Anna, with a 21, Lorcan with an 18, and Scorpius with a 15. All the scores are just about the same as the last task. Adding them up, I'm tied with Lorcan for first place with 42 out of 50 points, then Anna in second with 40, then Scorpius with 36. I laugh gleefully at this news. Scorpius is in last! I'm in first place with Lorcan! I could scream with joy.

I wait out the next hour under the bed sheets. Al and Caroline make idle conversation, not with me because I'm pretending to be asleep, but they content themselves with talking to each other. I want nothing more than to have my flower back in my sight, but no one seems to hear me when I cry out for it. I watch under squinted eyes when Anna is pulled in, then Lorcan, who smiles at me through chattering teeth, and finally Scorpius. Despite everyone else having nearly frozen to death, he doesn't even shiver, even though his skin is nearly blue. He looks at me before he is rushed into his bed. In that one gaze, I can tell one thing.

Back in the lake, when Scorpius disappeared at the last moment instead of trying to take what was mine, I had figured he just didn't want to get caught. But in his eyes I see much more. He _wanted _me to win. And not just because I didn't win the last task, and out of pity he let me win this one. Not just because I got to the flower first and deserved to win. It was because he wanted me to be new competition for him again. He wanted the victory for himself, but for him it wasn't just about winning this entire competition: it was about winning _me, _the forbidden object that has hung above him for years. We're now back in the game.

Something in my heart was aching. I lay my head back on the pillow, closing my eyes and ears to the sound around me, and I can hear the sound of my heart beating. I realize now what I have to do.

I have to play back, and this time I'm playing by my own rules.

**XX**

**Oooh, suspense! I know, it's killing me too. The next chapter will have MAJOR Rose/Scorpius interaction, so…. Yeah. And tell me if you're interested in reading a sequel to this story!**


	13. Chapter 13

I sleep horribly that night. The flower is by my bedside when I wake up, so beautiful it's almost blinding. It's bathed sliver in the moonlight, luminescent, and positively radiant. It's in full bloom in the moonlight. I still can't describe it. There's unnatural prettiness in it that is impossible to say. All I know is that it's beyond earth.

I swing my legs over the bed, my bare feet touching to the cool carpet with unusual softness. I make my way downstairs in my shorts and shirt. Surely Scorpius is asleep by now. He has nothing to party about _tonight._

I remember his gaze in the tent by the lake. I'm back in the game with him, and my plan for it is devious and cunning. But putting it into action may be complicated.

Did I really expect to be alone? Was there really any other reason to come downstairs than to see if Scorpius was there? If I did, and if there was, then I am sorely mistaken. Because there is Scorpius, lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, and glowing orange in the firelight. I suppose I expected nothing less.

He doesn't notice me until I'm seated on the recliner. He looks up in surprise at me, right as I tuck my feet under by body and curl up. I'm in no mood to get into an argument with him. Thankfully, he doesn't speak. But unfortunately, I make the unconscious choice to speak myself.

"If you want to stare at me all night, be my guest." The words slip out before I can stop them. They're tired and offhand, with no trace of malice in them for once. His eyes are wide and full of awe.

"You were amazing, Rose," he says. My heart swells with pride instantly at his words, but I have to remind myself that he's just playing a game now. "How did you figure out that riddle?"

Something about figuring out the riddle seems private to me. I don't want to share, so I lie. "I'm good at riddles." My voice is indifferent, although he doesn't seem to notice.

I can tell he isn't thoroughly convinced, but he doesn't push the topic further. "That was—it was really smart of you."

"You were very smart, too," I say. I decide not to bring up the topic of him chasing me in the lake. Nothing is stopping me from moving over to the couch he's sitting on, so I do. I can't yet put _my _plan into action, so I can't help but play along with his. "I was just smarter."

I hope I sound…. Flirtatious? I don't really know what I want with him. It seems we're never on solid ground.

"You're hair looks different wet," he says. For one small moment, I think of child talk. Scrutinizing each other for appearances and the way the person talks. Scorpius is not himself today, and I don't want to think about why. I want this to be real, because if it is my plan will be so much easier.

"Yeah, well, I like it that way," I say, slightly agitated. He reaches out to grab one of my hair strands, as if studying the difference, and I almost pull back in surprise. He is so close I can almost count his eyelashes.

"I didn't mean it that way," he says, smiling. Smiling. Smiling is not something Scorpius would do. It's always a smirk or leer or sneer with him. "It isn't bushy. It's…curly."

I'm afraid my voice won't work if I try and say something about that. I want to retort, to reply scathingly, but I can't. This isn't Scorpius tonight, and it isn't Rose either. Maybe, if I try hard enough, I can imagine this as the real us instead of just the occasional kindness we share. Like now.

"That's why I like it," I say. I wasn't lying before; , I really _can_count his eyelashes. I can see every line in his deep blue eyes, every curve in his lips, every hair on his brow….

Before I can take it all in, he pulls away. Something has changed. Perhaps it's just us playing make believe, but I can sense that something is different. Fractured. I'm not about to let this bother me, though.

We sit there for a while, sometimes staring into the fire, sometimes at the wall, but never at each other. Somehow, I know that would break the little resolve I have at the moment. He doesn't seem to think the same thing after a while, however. I can see him staring out of the corner of my eye. Firelight flickers across his pale face, reflecting in his eyes, now glinting with something so incredibly real compared to our words—

If this is what I see without concentrating, what can I see when I turn my head? When our eyes meet in a moment of spite, real or not? There is something inexpressibly real in this blissful moment. It's not all about pretending right now, and it never will be again, right? That's so far long gone…..

No! I scream at myself to pull back. _This_ _isn't real! _It's a game, and it will always be a game. I can't let myself fall for him. I just can't.

"Rose."

I turn my head before I can warn myself of dangers. But there are no dangers here, in this moment. Scorpius is now close again. I begin to count his eyelashes, reassured by something I cannot name. I feel so calm, in this moment, with him.

It does not faze me when he leans closer. My vision blurs at the closeness, and I can no longer count those eyelashes. I am no longer reassured. Whatever was protecting me is falling around my ears, whatever resolve I had to be the strong one, is gone completely. That fire is back, and it's burning me with renewed fury. It blisters my skin, crawls up my back, claws at my face, my cheek—

But that is not only fire there. It is the boy before me, skin now on skin, something that was forbidden not long ago. His hand presses against my back. I can't escape…but I don't really care tonight. His other hand runs up my bare leg, raising the hairs on every inch of my body. He is so close, so close, with just that. But there is more. His cheek is against mine, his face buried in my hair, and I hear and feel him breathing me in. I inhale deeply, too, because for a moment I forgot how to breathe. And then I breathe again. He smells so amazing, sugar and wind enveloping him and me, and we are lost, so lost….

To kiss him would be the end of me, I know it. But I want the end to come tonight. If I die here, if I end it all here, I will be complete with this fire roasting me alive. I want him to kiss me. I want him to destroy me.

"Rose," he whispers, his lips moving against my ear, "will you come to the ball with me?"

His words are so tantalizingly innocent, so soft spoken in this idyllic moment, that I do not notice them. They are unimportant until I realize what he has said.

I come back to reality like someone has shot a gun at me.

_It is this, this question (which was so entirely expected, yet what I so foolishly forgot was coming), that breaks it all. How could I forget something so important? This is all a game to him, and it should have been that way for me, too, even if I can't play it properly right now. There is no real passion here. He is winning, and winning me as well. I must learn how to play his game fast, before I fall for it for good. I have to put my plan into action. _

I want to cry out in pain, because none of this was real, no matter how much I wanted it to be. I am moving between worlds again, at the speed of light. To reality. To playing games. To fantasy world.

Is there no line to divide these worlds?

I have forgotten the one thing I promised myself I wouldn't forget: I have an unfaultable plan. I can't say yes, because even if I did promise myself I wouldn't fall for him, I may not be his only competition anymore (he was kissing another competitor, after all) So, if he's trying to get me paranoid and jealous with Anna, then two can play at that game. So in the two words I say to him, I reveal what my plan is, even though he won't know it.

"I'm taken." It's a breath in his ear, and then I am gone, feeling more confident in my plan than ever before.

I choose to ignore the fact that I thought the passion was real for a while.

XX

**I know, I know. Short chapter. But I will update soon, and the next chapter will be…..drum roll please! The Ball!**

**Thanks to my reviewers and Lida, my editor!**

**Reviews are lovely :) **

**Chloe**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey guys! Sorry (again) for the long update. Busy summer! I hope everyone is enjoying there's. I'd like to thank Lida (forever4), for be a fabulous editor. Unfortunately, she must retire her duties, and I'm very sad to see her go. If anyone is willing to be an editor for this story, I would be glad to send you the next few chapters to edit! Just PM me your email. **

**Enjoy!**

**XX**

"Wow Rosie," Lily says, and Roxanne nods her head excitedly next to her. "I think my work here is done!"

Never before, in all of my life, have I thought of myself as beautiful. I have noticed the way people stare at me, how they think I'm pretty. How could they **not **notice me with flaming red hair, tanned skin with a spattering of freckles, and gold and blue eyes. I knew I seemed exotic to people, but I'm not the type of beauty that could draw eyes without lifting a finger. I have always admired these lucky few, like Aunt Fluer and her children, for their splendor. I have always wanted what they have, but never saw it in myself.

Until now. Now, I am as radiant as the sun.

My gown is unbelievably beautiful. It alone adds to my beauty almost beyond recognition. This is Rose Weasley, the girl with books draped over her back, baggy robes on her body, and hair pulled into a messy bun. I am like my conceited and beautiful twin tonight. The gown itself is pure white, and the skirt flails out past my arm length, and it has a draped curtain of pale gold along one side of it, and the other side tied to my hip. The white part of my chest is decorated artfully in gold glitter, woven in patterns I can only describe as the waves off the sun itself. It's strapless, so I let my auburn curls drape over my collarbone. The effect is intoxicating. It gives the illusion that the rays of gold sunlight are going directly from the dress into my red hair, which is alive with gold glitter as well. I can hardly tear my eyes away to stare at my face. "I think you went a little overboard on the glitter, Roxanne," I say. I shimmer as I turn around. "I look like a fairy for Merlin's sake!"

"Too much glitter is always a good thing," Lily says. I laugh. Lily herself looks fabulous, her hair pulled up in an elegant bun, her dress clinging to her every curve. She's a bit more made up than me, but that's mostly because she always wears make up and loves getting the chance to overdo it. Especially on me.

As my mother had predicted, my hair had settled down into smooth curls at the start of my sixth year. It was highlighted with blonde and brown, having spent so much time in the sun. After years of trying to somehow fry the red and curls off my head, I finally accepted them as permanent. I don't mind them so much now, draped in gold. My dad's eyes were what I considered to be my strongest point. I had gotten his icy blue and beautiful eyes, but that wasn't the end of it. My mother had brown eyes with gold flecks in them, which I had always admired. As I grew from a toddler to a young child, her flecks of gold began to come to the forefront of my eyes. I hardly ever looked in a mirror. My mother always told me the worst thing to have was a big ego. But tonight, I let my head swell to the size of a boulder.

I never wore makeup much, but my older girl cousins loved giving me makeovers. They had taught me to apply certain things over the years, but I still had absolutely no artistic talent at applying it (cue Lily and Roxanne). Lily just went crazy though. I thought about taking some of it off, but she had worked so hard I thought I should humor her for just one night.

She had used magic on my eyelashes to separate, thicken, curl and lengthen them. The effect it had was dizzying. I need only blink and I forgot that I wasn't a seductive sort of witch. I had insisted Lily skip the eyeliner. But in place of that, she had spent almost half an hour on eye shadow. She mixed colors until she got the perfect shade of blue, and then did something with the gold and red. She didn't let me look until she was done. I had absolutely no idea what the hell she was doing to me, but now that I can see myself, I knew it was worth the agony.

I had combed my hair previously, but it still wasn't what Lily deemed satisfactory. She had curled each individual strand around her wand. I liked the result; it made my hair silky smooth as well as bouncy. Roxanne tried to decide on a way to apply the gold glitter to my hair. She ended up just applying gold glitter with magic. I made it all fall slowly over my head, lodging the glitter in places it wouldn't normally reach. It took every ounce of will power not to look in the mirror as I put on my dress.

Now, staring in the mirror, I know every excruciating moment spent was well worth it. My face is so stunning, you'd think an artist had erased it all and painted out my features again with a practiced hand. I try a smile; the girl standing in the mirror lights up like a firefly.

My smile falters for a moment. I want to be the image of beauty tonight; having spent years shunning these glorious gifts I've been given. I want to draw every eye in the room like bugs to a light. It has to be—

"Oh!" Roxanne says, her eyes widening excitedly. She wasn't allowed to go to the ball tonight, but she's enjoying herself anyways. I cringe slightly, afraid of more glitter, but she runs forward with her wand. "The finishing touch!"

She mutters 'lumos' and flicks her wand at my head. I gasp. My head begins an ethereal glow of brilliant gold light that continues down to my toes. I truly look like the sun now.

I couldn't have asked for more, right?

But what of the boy waiting for me below? Right now, as it has always been this entire year, we are just friends. There is no real love between us. Despite my voracious craving for him in times, I do not love him. I feel horrible for it, what I'm doing. I'm using him to make Scorpius jealous. If I can't get Scorpius by loving him myself, he can fall for me alone when he sees me with Lorcan.

I look back at myself in the mirror. I am defining myself tonight, so why not make the most of this night? I want to have fun tonight, to be glorious tonight, to shine like a star tonight. Just tonight. Then tomorrow, I will go back towards working for my true and serious goal. Tonight, my goal is to be beautiful and in love. I don't even have to try tonight; Scorpius will fall for me without my help.

"Thank you guys," I say happily. "I couldn't have done it without you."

"Of course you couldn't!" Lily says happily. "You're about as skilled with beauty stuff as Albus is with potions."

Roxanne and I laugh. I go to hug her, but she shakes her head. "I hate glitter," she says happily. I glare at her.

"Come on Rosie," Lily says. "Lorcan and Jerry are waiting downstairs."

I want to enter the common room gracefully, so amazingly that even the unshakable Lorcan will be speechless. I don't manage that, however, because I am in such a hurry to see him that I practically fall down the stairs. There he is. Waiting at the bottom. Looking stunning in the plain black dress robes with gold cuffs and bow Lily assigned him.

I suppose no matter how I entered, he would have been speechless. But no. He is more than that…. He's completely breathless. He has never seen the beauty in me, I'm sure, but even he cannot deny that I look dazzling.

"Wow," he breathes. "Rosie's all grown up." Despite his joking manor, I can tell he is taken aback.

"Hi," I say, eager for him to like my look tonight.

"You look beautiful, Rose," he says. He holds out his arm for me to take and I laugh at his gesture.

Jerry, I'm glad to see, is staring open-mouthed at Lily. "Close your mouth, Jerry," Lily says. "You look like a fish."

I don't suppose Jerry _could _look like a fish. He's one of the most handsome boys in the school. He asked Lily out, and Lily said yes (she hasn't said this, but I'm sure of it) only because she wanted to go to the ball and wasn't able to unless someone above fifth year asked her. I wish I had her luck sometimes.

"We better get going. The ball is about to start, and the champions have to be there to enter first," I say. Lorcan walks me to the portrait, and we take the secret pathways to the Great Hall. At the stairs we part with Lily and Jerry. For a moment I'm nervous about entering. Everyone's already in the Hall, and at the bottom Professor McGonagall is talking to Scorpius and Anna (who, I notice furiously, are linked at the arms). Lorcan seems bent on keeping me moving as fast as possible. And I'll be the first to admit running in high-heels is not at all easy.

"I want to show you to everyone," he says, still pulling me along, but beginning to slow to look at me again. "I'm with the most beautiful girl on earth right now."

I can't help it. I blush profusely, and I regret putting on makeup blush. I give a small smile, trying to ignore the feeling of the heat in my cheeks. "Well, I'm with the most handsome boy, so there's no competition."

"Are you glowing?" he asks suddenly. Our pace has slowed to a steady tread, and I still hold onto him.

"Yeah," I say, still blushing.

"Oh. I thought I might have been imagining it."

I laugh. We talk lightly until we're at the bottom of the stairs. I use all my concentration to keep talking to Lorcan and not look at Scorpius.

"Lorcan and Rose," the Professor says happily. "Well, it seems we have two couples this year instead of four. Interesting."

She looks very interested indeed. I can see out of the corner of my eye how intently Anna and Scorpius are staring at me. I turn my eyes to meet his just as the Professor ushers us toward the door. His breath catches in his throat, and I wink at him seductively as the doors open.

I feel as light as air as I enter the room, and every single pair of eyes settles down on me with a quiver.

**XX**

**Once again, looking for an editor! **

**Reviews are awesome,**

**Chloe**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hello to all my wonderful readers! Sadly, one of the best editors I've ever had (forever4) had to retire my story. But amazingly, two incredible people sprang into action right when I needed it! I would like to give a huge thanks to ****xXnine-in-the-afternoonXx (Sydney) and Joelle8 (Jo!). I honestly could not have pulled this whole thing off without them. And I'm super excited to have two editors! **

**Another huge thanks to my reviewers. I try to reply to all of you, and starting now I will! I also will try to update sooner. **

**Here it is: the ball!**

**XX**

The ball setting is gorgeous. The Great Hall has been decorated with, wouldn't you know, gold and bronze accents. The tables have been removed to make room for a large white dance floor, surrounded by gold-draped individual tables with white roses set on top. On the stage is a band I don't recognize, all dressed regrettably in gold, it seems. The rest of the floor looks like it's adorned with fresh virgin snow, glittering in the golden lighting. I can feel the coolness of winter beneath my feet, but the air is warm and comfortable. It's all elegant and intoxicating. Scorpius looks dazzling in black dress robes with an icy blue collar, and Anna looking pretty in a simple red dress, but no one looks at them as they enter. They all fix their eyes on me, whispering to each other, stunned into silence and altogether shocked. Lorcan nudges me as if to say, "Told you so." I smile a radiant smile, and I am transformed. This is my night.

Lorcan and I go into position for the first dance. My dad and mum taught me how to dance when I was young, and I've always loved it for an unexplainable reason. Fortunately for me, Lorcan isn't too bad himself, and we maneuver around the dance floor easily. The song is slow and easy; slowly couples begin to dance to it alongside us. Before long the entire dance floor is swirling and sliding in a frenzy of dancing.

When the song ends, Lorcan doesn't let me go, though I don't mind at all. We glide our way through the next three songs, thoroughly exhausted by the end of the fourth. He takes my hand and leads me to a table to get drinks and food. The menus are order-when-ready, so we place our order, and in a moment Christmas pudding and a plate of ham is at our disposal. "What do you think, Lorcan?" I ask before taking a bite of ham. It's delicious.

"It's great, if you like glitter," he says. I feign a look down at my dress, pretending to be worried. Lorcan laughs. "Well, I love glitter."

"So do I," I say excitedly. "Did you notice?"

"Regrettably." I smile wider. "Now I can't take my eyes off you."

I stare over at the dance floor, taking another bite of food. I spot Albus, looking dashing in Uncle Harry's ink green robes. He's dancing with Caroline, who, of course, is in a frilly pink dress. She looks pretty nonetheless. Lily is dancing with Jerry, who simply can't take his eyes off of her. I spot Hugo in the far corner of the room, his ginger head standing out vividly amongst the crowd. He looks as if he's trying to ignore his date thoroughly, who is looking at him with pleading blue eyes in hopes for a dance. She's in my year, I think with a chuckle. And Pamela…. I don't even believe it. There she is, making her way over to our table, her arm hooked with none other than Evan Longbottom. He's tall, tan, and absolutely dashing in dark brown dress robes. Pamela looks like she could sing.

"Pamela!" I yell. She waves excitedly at me, and I can't help but get up and hug her. "You look gorgeous!" And she does. She's in a dark gold mini dress - almost bronze - that matches the exact shade of her eyes. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun that fits in perfectly with her rusted look.

"Oh my God, Rose," she says, looking me up and down. "I saw you when you came in but I couldn't believe it was actually _you_. You look gorgeous."

I smile sheepishly, still not quite used to compliments. "Hi, Evan."

He smiles and waves at me. Faithfully, he doesn't look at me, only Pamela. "Here, we'll pull up a table beside you," she says. Evan shifts the table using his wand, pulls out a chair for Pamela, then sits down in his own seat. Lorcan and Evan begin talking, so I have the chance to jump on her.

"Oh my God!" I say in a hushed tone. "I can't believe you got Evan to come with you! It's about damn time, too!"

"Actually…" Pamela says, lowering her voice to a just-audible whisper. "He asked me."

I grin wildly. "I knew he liked you."

Pamela reaches over and places some ham on her plate, and we both begin eating and talking, eventually chatting with Evan and Lorcan as well. I think it's the most fun I've had in a while. After over half an hour of talking, long after the food is gone, someone taps me on the shoulder.

"Would you care to dance?" It's Scorpius. It seems it's always Scorpius.

I look over at Lorcan for approval. Oddly, I would be content sitting and chatting for the rest of the night, but there is an unwavering longing to go with Scorpius. Lorcan smiles at me and nods, even though I can sense something hidden in his look. And with that, I am whisked away to the center of the dance floor.

Right when we reach the middle, the golden light hits me, making me shimmer under it. Scorpius turns around, and for the first time all night he has a proper view of me.

"Rose…" he says excitedly. That's before he catches himself, however. He sobers up almost immediately, and tries a friendly smile. His eyes continue to sweep over me hungrily, however. He is trying to decide: Do I be so completely shocked that I risk giving myself away? Or do I act nonchalant about this and risk giving myself away anyways?

"You look nice," he says. I can tell he's struggling not to look everywhere on me. I rest one hand on his shoulder, the other in his, and he rests his hand on the small of my back, pulling me dangerously close. His eyes are trying to focus, trying to remain calm in the face of beauty. I enjoy this so much; I can't stop the words from coming. It's unfortunate that I say them, but maybe it will make him stumble in a new way. He may know that I know about his game, but he doesn't know my plan to make him burn with jealousy. This won't ruin anything on my part. All I want tonight is for everything to be real. Just for one night.

"Please," I say, honest pleading in my voice. "Please, please don't hold anything back."

"You're sure?" he says, both jokingly and airless at the same time. "Because, you know, I might drool or something." I flutter my eyelashes in what I hope is a sultry way, and give him a nod. Without warning, he takes my arm and pulls me into the music.

I rest my head on his shoulder as we spin. The music is amazing, drifting in and out of focus, letting the dancers be the beat and heart of the music, until they step in again with a wide range of colors and beauty. I focus on nothing but the music. I want so badly to forget myself.

Scorpius smells like the ocean breeze, but the salt is replaced with sugar. It's sweet and intoxicating, and it's not long before I'm dizzy from inhaling his fumes. He doesn't seem to notice, though. He has sucked me in just as I have him.

"Rose?" he whispers quietly. I don't look up at him, but I open my eyes to find my world just the same as I left it.

"Yes?"

No. Something is slightly different. It's fractured, almost. As if I broke it in a corner with that gunshot that brought me back to reality a week ago when he first asked me to the ball.

"I want to tell you something."

That corner is breaking beyond repair now. I want to reach out and press it together again before it falls down. What is behind it? Will I like what I see? "What is it?"

But no. I have forgotten myself tonight. I will let that glass shatter. I will let it break and watch as the glistening pieces fall in the moonlight. I will love whatever lies behind it.

"You really are beautiful. You always were."

I tell myself I will pick the pieces up and glue them back together in the morning. They will be replaceable, these pieces. They couldn't stay intact forever. "I know. I finally noticed."

He laughs gently, and I move beneath his chest. The movement is so full of life… This seems to shatter what's left of my glass. It falls to the floor, just as I anticipated. His gaze is full of longing and passion. In a strange way, I know it's truthful. I know that every word he's said is the truth. "Do we have to keep playing games? Because, Rose, I think I'm in love with you."

I haven't anticipated this, this emotion to come into play. Because, before I can register it, I think I know I love him too. After all the years of suppressing it, denying it and naming it something else, of hiding it with lies and games, it's finally true. The pretend world we played in before seems small and unintimidating. How could these sincere words be forgery? The glass… it's showing the world completely differently now. It's still fractured, it's still so incredibly wrong. But I feel so incredibly right in this new world.

This is the part where the pretense unravels, and the glass shatters. I may be 'in love' with Lorcan, just trying to get Scorpius to falter, but I am really in love with _Scorpius_. I don't want him to falter. I want this to be real. New songs come and go, and it's long after I have forgotten the world that I notice the music has changed. It's sad, yet an otherworldly sort of beauty emancipates from its depths. I lose myself in this music, just as I have lost myself in this boy I hold so tightly to. It's as if I'm afraid I'll lose him if we stop spinning. It's as if I know that something terrible has come with the shattering of the glass.

We stop dancing as a pair, and we begin to dance as one. I flow with his limbs, his heart, his breath. I need him beside me like I need air in my lungs. I know I love him. I know I love him. I know I love him, and this new world - this world that has so completely blurred the line between reality and make-believe. But I can never say it.

Close your eyes for a moment and imagine us. Aren't we glorious? Us, in all our twirling and glimmering wonder, drawing the eyes of everyone and everything. We are tragic and hopeless, yet so completely in love. Are we drawing your eye? Can you look away, now that you have seen what we are? I know I will never be able to look away. I want this to carry on into eternity, Scorpius and I. I refuse to let go. I will not let it slide from my fingers again, because I know that this temporary glass has broken beyond repair.

I slip on those broken pieces of glass, knowing as I fall that I will wake tomorrow. And when I do, I will be in love, and know that I cannot be. I will never trust this boy. I can never love this boy. This night was supposed to be one night of love, but now I know it's going to last for as long as it takes. And it is with a broken heart that I lift my head from his shoulder, before turning and running from something that is bound to catch up in the end.

Just tonight. Then tomorrow, I will go back towards working for my true goal. Tonight, my goal is to be beautiful and in love.

Is there such a defining line between the truth and games?

XX


	16. Chapter 16

**On account of the FABULOUS reviews I recieved, I decided to update early! Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm going to go back and respond to each review for that chapter! And I will continue to do so from now on! Thanks so much!**

XX

That night, as if in a dream, Lorcan comes to me. He doesn't come to my room, no, because after the ball we went there together. He doesn't come anywhere but into the deepest recesses of my heart.

After I scrub the very last inch of glitter off my skin and fold away my elegant dress, I crawl under the warm covers. Lorcan is out on the deck, looking at the moon. The door to the patio is open, and in comes the cold night breeze. It makes me shiver despite the covers on top of me.

The fact that Scorpius admitted he loves me scares me. But the fact that I've admitted it to myself scares me the most. The broken world of pretending has shattered, and I would do anything right now to repair it. I'm terrified, more terrified than I have ever been in my entire life, and I know I have to try and do something to repair this damage.

Lorcan comes in from the balcony and closes the doors, the warmth finally seeping into my skin again. He crawls under the covers with me and pulls me close. His face looks sad this close up, his blue eyes receding within the ocean of blue. I touch my hand to his face.

"I miss you sometimes," I say softly. He smiles lightly, a small sad smile.

"I always miss you," he whispers. His eyes twinkle with his words, stars reflected in the ocean.

"Like when?" I press myself closer to him, willing the heat from his body to seep permanently into mine. Everything that is Lorcan is comfort to me. And right now, I need all the comfort I can get.

"Like now." He wills himself closer to me, too, until we can no longer make eye contact. Everything else on us is connected.

"But I'm right here," I say sadly. I breathe deeply, inhaling the scent of everything that is comfort and home to me. Something is mingling with it all tonight. I used Lorcan to make Scorpius fall in love with me. But now... I want to try and reverse the love I feel for Scorpius. It is a dangerous game I am playing; loving Scorpius means so many things, and not just failing to win this tournament. No one would approve of him. I would be shunned for life. It's not fair, really, the love I feel for him at the moment. If I can just love Lorcan, replace Scorpius with him, then everything will be fine….

"I want you closer." The words aren't even a whisper, aren't even a breath. They are the very pounding wishes and hopes of my heart. Throbbing with every longing ever imaginable, I leap into the unknown world and devour the lies I'm now feeding myself.

I kiss him.

The quick movements of our lips are wisps of wind on the horizon. Our breaths are cool and refreshing, and with each kiss I long for more, crave for more. I crave it like I crave oxygen. With each breath I need more, want more, find it impossible to stop. We are pressed closer than we have ever been before, than we probably ever will be in the future, because—

I want Scorpius, not Lorcan. I need to love Lorcan... but can I?

I don't stop kissing him. The freshness of our kisses radiate into the air, as if winds of soothing air is filling the room, causing my skin to tingle and long for more. I run my hand through his hair, softer than silk in my fingers, yet tangled and rough in places. Everything about him reminds me of the air. The freshness of it, the cooling sensation, the endless longing for it…..

And I'm longing for it all. I want his lips, roughly pulling on mine, and they are pulled like a twisting gale of wind. I want the feel of him, and there he is, before me and so amazing I could sing. I want his touch on my bare skin, and I feel it, cool as ice yet as wonderful as fire—

Because fire is what I want.

I roll on top of him. Before I can grasp the situation and its entirety, I pull up Lorcan's shirt over his head, running my hands slowly up and down his soft stomach. He kisses me – everywhere – not just at my lips anymore but everywhere I am. His lips feel cool and soft, quickly landing and then flying upwards again like a bird, landing again as my desire falls from my lips in words of longing beyond imagination.

But fire is what I want.

I am flipped over, now under it all, but I suddenly feel on top of the world. This wind is blowing too fast to stop now. It will take me to the edge, and when I fall (because I will fall; there is absolutely no denying that) it is how I will fall that now consumes me. I am past the point of wondering why and if. I know what I want. I want fire.

Our clothes are torn off. The remaining barriers that blocked our skin from connecting are gone now. There is absolutely nothing stopping us, no stopping us from doing this. I want it. I need it. We are kissing feverishly, our lips connected in endless possibilities, Lorcan and I, all of which have been opened tonight. His lips are so fresh, his eyes are so blue, blue, the last color before nirvana. Because this is the point of no return, and we are climbing, climbing steadily towards the end, and I am—

Lost in this moment. Not lost as in the mysterious hide-and-seek within the confines of the woods, musty and wonderful, but lost as in I don't know who I am. Nothing like this moment has ever happened. Somewhere, deep in the dark shadows of my being, I know that I can't love this boy like I love Scorpius Malfoy. I'm trying to reverse the damage done tonight, but the truth is irreversible: I love Scorpius. And no amount of Lorcan can undo or replace that. Then he is gone. His lips are gone, his warmth is gone, he is gone. His silhouette is silver and gold and so far away in the moonlight. I desire nothing more than to continue kissing his cool breath. But he is gone. He is gone, and I want—

I want Scorpius, and Lorcan knows this. "Rose," he says, his voice trembling as I tremble from the need for him. "You don't want to do this. You don't want this."

"I need you," I cry. I plead, I beg, I ask nothing more than to have him. But he knows what's better. I fall back into the bed sheets, no longer looking at him, and quiver as my mind realizes that I won't get what I want now. "You don't want me," he says. His voice is sad, so sad, the sadness that reminds you of the wailing howl of a dog as it cries to the moon. "You want him."

But he doesn't know what I do: I can't want Scorpius Malfoy, no matter how completely obsessed with him I am. I need to love Lorcan, even if all he's ever been to me is a friend, simply because I can't.

XX

**Really sorry for the short chapter! But hey, did any of you see that coming? I know I didn't! And, I know, I can just see the reviews now. "I hate this! I don't want Rose/Lorcan, I want Rose/Scorpius!" But I assure you, if you just ride the waves with me, the final destination will be stunning. I promise.**

**Please review. They make me smile!**


	17. Chapter 17

XX

_Keep a secret, tell a lie_

_I can tell no one;_

_I can no longer sit and cry_

_In your arms anymore_

_We're sitting on the sidewalk and waiting_

_For the storm_

_That won't ever come tonight,_

_Because this fire is burning it away and charred_

_Black smoke will bring_

_Acid rain._

_This passion won't go away._

_But what you're thinking, now, I know:_

_(They'll think they had me but I'll never be there._

_You thought you had me but I didn't care.)_

_But even we were yellow once, budding_

_With happiness and hope_

_I say promise,_

_You say forget._

_There are no secret places left in me_

_And although you might deny it,_

_I know your secrets, too._

_And your eyes are so blue, blue, the color of_

_That last breath before fantasy._

_I can taste it on you, honey._

_You're lying and I_

_Have no place to run_

_(Except back into your arms again)_

_And it's getting harder to see_

_And baby there is no way_

_Out_

_Here, I cannot tell if the smell_

_Is your kiss of fire and beauty,_

_Or his kiss of home._

_This decision will be the death of me._

_You're lying and I_

_Have no place to run_

XX

Waking up this morning is the hardest it has ever been. Nothing is gradual or calming, just simply abrupt and painful. Tears manage to leak from my eyes without me even realizing I'm sad. What happened last night? What will happen today?

I know the answer to both these questions, and I wish more than anything that I didn't.

There is a week left of Christmas break, and I would like to spend it under these covers, protected from the harsh light of the sun and the evil scrutiny of eyes. I needed Lorcan to win this competition, so that I could get to Scorpius without direct harm to myself. But Scorpius got under my skin before I could even put my plan in action. Last night I fell for him, and I fell hard. Whether or not he's telling the truth is trivial. Either way I am doomed, unless I can forget that I fell in the first place.

Everything is so tangled; I don't know how I'm ever going to get out.

"Rose?" comes a voice from the doorway. It must be Lorcan, back with breakfast. I pull the covers from over my head and gaze out into the doorway, flooded with a mote of sunlight, dust dancing in the air. And there is Scorpius. It's always Scorpius.

I don't want to talk to him, so I close my eyes and breathe in deep and steady breaths. I love the feeling that he's just in the room, talking to me and seeing me, but thinking I'll never hear what he says. There are no consequences here, buried beneath the bed covers, unseeing yet so totally alert. I hear a shuffle on my bedside dresser, but don't dare crack my eyes open to look. After what seems an eternity of silence, I feel a hand on the back of my head, crackling with heat and feeling. My heart beats louder and louder with each moment. I hear, in so dazed a state that I'm not even sure if it's the real, the words again come from his mouth. "I love you, Rose." And then his hand is gone from my neck, and with it goes the burning touch of his fingertips. I feel cold. When he's finally gone from the room, I open my eyes. On the dresser beside me there is nothing but my wand, a glass of water, and a note, presumably from Lorcan. I un-crumple the note. It's short, and it takes me three tries to truly understand its message.

Rose,

You don't always want what you can't have, but in this case it's true. You want him because he's beautiful to you; unattainable and, somehow, your perfect match. Never settle for less than what your heart desires.

Lorcan

P.S. I will love you forever, and long after your need for me is gone.

With the last sentence I realize something. Lorcan knows nothing of me trying, needing, having to love him. All he assumes is that I didn't want him, that I just needed him to be my lover for a night to help me forget about Scorpius, and that I will never want him.

But, suddenly, I'm not so sure. Last night changed everything.

Scorpius is long gone by the time I make my way down from my room. It's past breakfast, so on the way outside I grab a piece of toast, munching it all the way down to the greenhouses. Usually it's Pamela and I who hang out around here, as we both love the earthy aroma, sitting by the edge of the forest and watching as the steam condensates on the glass in the warm afternoon. But as there's snow on the ground now, the greenhouses hold a new intrigue for us. The entire house is covered in a fresh blanket of snow, looking more like there's solid ice inside, rather than hundreds of magical plants with ear warmers on them. Today, I spot Pamela sitting with her back on a tree, but she's not the only one there. Evan, sitting with Pamela, is there, as well as Albus, Caroline, and Lorcan. Seeing Lorcan makes my stomach jump in a not-unpleasant way. It's probably only from the guilt of last night. But thinking this does not explain the way my heart begins to hammer, louder and louder, giving me a jolt of adrenaline with each and every beat as I draw nearer to him. This is much more than guilt.

"Rose!" Caroline calls out. "We never talked last night!"

Of course she goes straight to the ball scene. That's to be expected. "I saw your dress, though. It was very pink."

She blushes and smiles, as if this is a compliment. I laugh lightly. "I saw your dress, too! Oh my goodness, it was beyond incredible! Everyone thought so."

"Did they?" I ask, feigning ignorance. I sit down beside Pamela with raised eyebrows, which makes her giggle.

"It was pretty cool, Rose," Al says. "I can't believe your mum let you wear that."

"Neither can I." Usually, Mum was one to throw a fit if I so much as revealed my ankles. 'You're too desirable as it is, Rosie,' she would say.

"Well, it was good while it lasted, anyways," Pamela says. She looks at Evan with that look in her eyes. I can't help but notice that he's been awfully quiet since...well, he's always been quiet. But today he's especially quiet.

"Pamela, can I talk to you?" I ask. She immediately blushes, which proves something's up. We get up, and I motion to behind the greenhouse.

"I've been meaning to talk to you, too," Caroline says. She tags along behind us, and for once I'm grateful to have an accomplice in this.

"What's up, guys?" Pamela's always been a horrid liar. Already I can tell she's hiding something big.

"Okay, spill the beans," Caroline says. "What happened last night?"

Pamela visibly pales. "Well… It's not that I don't want to, uh, share with you guys." She swallows. "It's just it's, er… rather private."

"Oh my God," I say. "You didn't!"

But she did. Oh my God, she did. I don't even believe it. "The first one of the three of us!" Caroline exclaims. "I've been dating Albus for three years, and the closest we ever came was when he managed to—"

"Okay, okay!" I cut in. "I really don't want to hear the details! He's my cousin, for Merlin's sake!"

"Sorry," Caroline says. "But I don't believe you actually did it, Pamela! You dated the guy for, what, a day?"

Pamela's eyes visibly harden at Caroline. "To be fair, I've had the biggest crush on him since the day I stepped into Hogwarts. I've never settled for a boy less than him."

Her words remind me of Lorcan's note, now folded neatly in my pocket. 'Never settle for less than your heart's desire.' I must have blushed at the memory of last night, because Caroline and Pamela stop their arguing to look at me strangely.

"Rose?" Pamela asks.

"I don't think you're the only one who was hiding a secret, Pam," Caroline says. She puts her hand on her hip and her eyes locked on mine, as if to say, 'Spill it.'

"Is it Scorpius?" Pamela asks me, her eyes intrigued. "I saw the way you guys danced last night. You could have been in love."

I swallow deeply. Explaining will be hard….

"You guys have to promise not to react," I say, sighing. I really wasn't planning on telling them at all. "You can't gasp, tell me that it was wrong, or even tell me congratulations. Nothing. And whatever you do, do not look at him like he's a complete stranger."

Pamela and Caroline smile mischievous grins. "It's Scorpius, isn't it? I knew it!"

I sigh, figuring what they would suspect after Pamela's comment. "No. It wasn't Scorpius, and we didn't… It wasn't completely… Well, we just kissed. A lot."

Both look disappointed in a way. "Then who was it?"

I take a deep breath, preparing to dive into shark-infested waters. "It was….Lorcan."

Their reaction is instantaneous. Both of their jaws fall open, gaping at me like an alien from outer space. "There's no way," Caroline says. "You didn't!"

I nod, heat rushing into my already cold-pinked cheeks. "It was… Sort of an accident."

"There's no way you can call that an accident, Rose," Caroline says. "You don't do things on accident. And Lorcan…." She looks over at Pamela, as if asking for permission. Pamela's still was gaping at me. I raise an eyebrow.

"It's not an accident at all, Rose," Pamela says. She looks shell-shocked. "All these years, there's always been something between you two, but we knew you just liked him as a friend. None of us questioned it when you two curled up with each other on the common room couch. But… Oh Merlin, I don't believe it."

"I guess all that curling up wasn't leading to much good," I say. I'm trying to make a joke out of the situation, but Pamela and Caroline's faces are deadly serious.

"Rose, this isn't good," Caroline says. "You like Scorpius! Was going with Lorcan just a way of forgetting Scorpius? Take it from the expert, it doesn't work."

Caroline's right, of course. I refuse to tell them that I was planning on using Lorcan to make Scorpius jealous in the first place, though. "Do you still like Scorpius?" Pamela asks. I stop staring at the snowy ground and look up.

"I don't know who I like anymore, Pam," I sigh. And it's the truth. "It's all so confusing. I saw Scorpius kissing Anna. I really thought he liked me. I guess I was just trying to forget about him."

This isn't the entire truth, though. I thought he was pretending to like me (actually, I knew), and seeing him with Anna made me realize he was no longer pretending with just me.

"Well, don't do it again," Pamela says. I think she's going to say she doesn't want me to try and lose myself in someone I don't like, but what she says instead is so much worse. "Lorcan loves you, Rose. I mean he loves you like he's never loved anyone else. He's loved you for years… He must know you used him. He must be heartbroken. Please, Rose, don't do that to him again."

My heart squeezes with hurt for Lorcan. Has he really loved me for years? Everything between us has always been indescribable, from simple glances to every hug we've shared. I've always written it off as a true, unbreakable friendship. But now…

"How do you know he loves me?" I ask. I have to try and deny it. It's the only way to selfishly save myself from a broken heart. Caroline looks at me in despair.

"Rose, how could you not know it? I know you always thought it was friendship, but you were the only one who saw that. Everyone knew he wanted you except you."

"He came asking something once," Pamela says. "He came to me, asking me in strict confidence if you loved him like he loved you. I told him no, that you only loved him as a friend, and he was heartbroken. He always thought you loved him back. Can you imagine what he must feel now?"

"I'm just glad we didn't go all the way," I say. "Being his first wouldn't have made things any better."

To my surprise, Pamela and Caroline exchange guilty glances. "What is it?" I ask.

"Well, um…." Pamela begins. "You wouldn't have been Lorcan's first."

I gape at them in shock. Why wouldn't he have told me this?

"He never told you because he was afraid it would ruin your relationship, if you really did love him," Caroline explains. "He used her to avoid the pain of being denied by you. I suppose you both did the same thing, really."

"And Rose, don't be sad that he didn't tell you. He only told me at the beginning of this year. He, um, used the girl in sixth year, not long after I told him that you only liked him as a friend."

"Who's the girl?" I ask. My voice is slightly croaky. I still can't quite believe what I'm hearing.

"Anna MacMillian," Pamela says. My heart does a dramatic leap. "That's why we were all sort of scared when you four got selected to be champions. It was sort of like tempting fate with that twisted love square."

Caroline laughs at Pamela's metaphor, but I don't even smile. All I really feel right now is a twisted sort of jealousy towards Anna, a deep regret that Lorcan never told me what happened, and a new sort of emotion at finding that Lorcan loves me. This might change everything, if Lorcan already loves me. Maybe I have hope of forgetting Scorpius after all. I feel horrible at knowing how hurt Lorcan must be, but there may be hope for him yet.

As we all turn to go back to the boys, waiting patiently just on the other side of the greenhouse, I silently make a promise to myself. I will not, under any circumstances, admit to anyone that I myself may be in love with Lorcan. Unless it works out, unless I end up loving him back, then there is no need to risk Lorcan another broken heart when my love for him doesn't match up to what I feel for Scorpius.

XX

**Hey all! I know, sad turn of events. Rose/Scorpius interaction will be minimal in coming chapters, but it will return full force! I promise! As a smart reviewer said, you can trust this story to remain Rose/Scorpius. Or at least end that way.**

**Also: the poem in the beginning of the chapter was the second part to the poem that I wrote on the very first chapter.**

**On another note, I will be moving into my dorm over the next week, so I will have very little time to update. My editors will be furiously scribbling over the next chapters! I'm so excited about the Slytherin task! You guys are gonna love it!**

**Please review!**


	18. Chapter 18

XX

That night, I take the flower into the bath with me, because I remember Uncle Harry's story of the golden egg. I tell myself I want to see what the flower has to say, that I want the advantage it will give me. But that's not really the reason. I need to forget right now, about my current love afflictions, and remember what my soul focus is. And that's the competition.

In the low golden lighting of the bathroom, the flower itself turns golden. I set it on the sink counter and fill the bathtub with spearmint bathwater, simply because I need the sharpness of it to clear my head. It tickles my nose as I inhale the scent. It's so fresh it almost feels cold, like wind blowing in my nostrils—

But that reminds me of Lorcan, the way his lips were fresh like mint on the wind. I don't need another distraction. I quickly turn on another faucet, cinnamon spice, and the mint quickly mingles with a richer, earthier scent. It's what I always manage to smell like, an unnamable spice mingled with the sharp scent of cinnamon. And at Hogwarts, I smell like roses, because of the prefect bathwater I always use. I turn on the faucet of roses, and to me the scent that comes smells like Hogwarts, of Lorcan and myself. I inhale deeper.

What does Scorpius smell like? I try to remember the incredibly intoxicating scent I smelled the night of the ball. It may have just been a special soap he used, but it seemed familiar when I smelt it. The cool, sweet air; like a chilling breeze of an ocean draft, but sugary and delicious. I could inhale it for hours. I turn on a scent I know to be brown sugar, and immediately I can smell him. Everything intermingling in the aroma now smells of love. Everything I love.

Just more distractions. I grab the flower and slide into the water. This may or may not work, but I am desperate at this point. I place the glistening flower on the top of the water, where it floats, tranquil and stunning, and then begins emitting the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I smile at myself for knowing that water was what it needed. It's unearthly and flowing, a sound I can only describe as music. I close my eyes and listen. Its effect is hypnotic.

_In the last task of this year_

_You must make amends with a distant friend _

_In a place of song and spellbinding beauty _

_In times of anger and regret _

_I sing of loyalty _

_Remember your partner, hatred be spent _

_Remember home _

_No matter the temptations that roam _

_And in the case of your own mind _

_Don't let the choices wear you away _

_Listen to your heart _

_And follow it till the dawn of the new day. _

I know what the poem means. The reason my reaction is just to sit in the water and gaze into space is simply because I can't honestly think of a reaction. Just like how I'm often at a loss for words, I find that I don't have the right response to this poem. So, as I always do when I'm lost, I analyze.

'In the last task of this year, you must make amends with a distant friend.' Make amends with whom? I will have no distant friend when I'm there. 'In a place of song and spellbinding beauty, in times of anger and regret.' In a place that's really beautiful? I am reminded of the beautiful mermaid, and of the flower I now hold in my hands. In unfamiliar and beautiful places, I will find anger and regret. 'I sing of loyalty, remember your partner, hatred be spent.' The flower wants me to be loyal to… Myself? My partner? If we had partners for the fourth task, then it was obviously the key to stay with your partner. 'Remember home, no matter the temptations that roam.' I will be tempted. But I have to remember home. I have to remember who I am.

It's funny that I'm asked to remember myself when I really don't know who I am at all. I'm Rose Weasley, sure, but that's just a name. I have red hair, blue and gold eyes, olive skin, and curvy features, but that's all the appearance. All I know about the inside is that I'm highly intelligent, very stubborn, and have a smart mouth. But not even those qualities describe me. If I were to be told someone was in love with me, what would my reaction be? If I fell in love, what would I do to get the other to love me? If I win this championship, what would my life be made into? Those things are what determine who I am, what is written about me, not what I look and act like. How am I supposed to remember 'home' when I can't even remember now?

I know where my true home is, though. Part of it has always been Hogwarts, but I've loved my true home for as long as I can remember. My home is my mother and father, complete with the cinnamon and spicy scent of our house, with me and Hugo crowded in the warm kitchen for a discussion that is always engaging. Home is what I always remember of my family, of all my cousins, from Roxanne to Molly, from Albus to Dominique. Days spent out under the stars at the Burrow, and at my own home, out by the lake. All of it I know so well, I could navigate through it with my eyes closed. I will remember that home. Even if I don't know who I am, I will remember home.

I find myself thinking of home as the bathwater begins to grow cold. Out of everything I know of home, out of everything I love, the thing I love most is perhaps the one person who isn't even related to me. Lorcan was around our family, my home, for as long as I can remember, and ever since then he's symbolized home more than any other person. Perhaps now, with my love for Dora, she will become the new image of home. But I can't seem to find Lorcan being put out of the picture, even when I'm as old as my mother and father. It will always be he and I, curled around each other by the fire, shivering together at night by the lake, swimming among the deepest rivers that no one else dared to venture in. It will always be him, talking of hilarious inventions and mythical creatures, being crazy and abstract but so wonderful to me.

Even though I never really give Hogwarts deep thought, I find that now, looking back, what I remember most is Scorpius. Not because I was obsessed with him in some way, no. But because I was so eager to outshine him that he became my soul focus. All my years have been spent trying to win over something about him, whether it was his intelligence and cunning nature, or simply the battle of forces between us. Now, this year, I am trying to win him over in the hopes of succeeding in another goal. I want to win this championship, and to do that I must first beat Scorpius. To me, Lorcan represents a future that I can be great in, and so does Dora in a way: they're a home. But in a way far more important is the way the championship shines so brightly in my mind. Winning it means the future of a great witch, and that's all I've ever wanted in my life.

But is it really still just trying to defeat him? It's not just games anymore, I suppose. My feelings for him are real, and they are destructive. If I try again to win him over, I may end up losing in the process. But he knows I know now, right? If he knows I'm in on the game, why would he try and win over me anyways?

Frighteningly, I don't know the answer to that question. And hopefully I won't be challenged to it sometime in the future.

The flower had sung the last four lines as if it was an afterthought. They were regarding me, my mind, rather than just the task itself. I was supposed to listen to my heart when I was torn. I shouldn't let any choices I have to make affect me. But what choices would I have to make?

XX

On Monday morning, I send my patronus- a small fox- to Lorcan's dorm and tell him to come up to mine. I don't feel like leaving the comfort of my room to tell him something. In fact, I don't feel like leaving at all. Last night's revelation has left me reeling, trying to grasp for straws that simply aren't there. All I know about today is that I know the goal of the last task, and Scorpius plays a key role in it. But until then I have to forget and ignore Scorpius, and make myself love Lorcan. So, when the last task comes, I will not be tempted at all. And that is my goal, and I will try indefinitely, until I win this championship. I know, when I win, it will be because of this decision. I just know it.

Despite knowing this, I feel insecure about my decision and nervous of the repercussions. Something will get in my way, I can just feel it. I can't think of what. Before I can move the wall blocking my thoughts, Lorcan walks in.

My heart flutters excitedly; I inhale sharply, and I suddenly realize how much that one night has changed my feelings for him. "Hi, Lorcan."

"Nice patronus," he says. I smile at the fond memory of first creating it, in fifth year, surprised that it was only a fox. I had wanted a much larger and more intelligent animal, but now I'm quite liking the small, sharp-witted patronus.

"Thanks." I fold my fingers over the bed sheets as Lorcan sits down next to me. "I figured out what the flower's for."

"Really? So the bath worked, I take it?" he asks. I laugh and take his large hands in mine.

"Yeah, it did. The flower sang a song. It told me what has to happen for the fourth task."

His face lights up in excitement. Maybe he wasn't expecting me to tell him so much. "Really? That's great, Rose! What did it say?"

I squeeze his hands and bring them up to my lips in an affectionate manner. Lorcan's eyes flicker hazily. I hate what I'm doing to him, but I almost can't help myself. This is Lorcan, my best friend, and the boy who came so close to being so much more. I can't help what I feel for him….. And I also can't help that I'm using him, right now, as a distraction from Scorpius.

"Well, it wasn't very clear." I pause and take a minute to realize just how _far _I'll go to win this competition. Because I figure I can't risk letting someone win who I never even anticipated to win in the first place, I lie to him. I lie to him like I've never lied to anyone before. "But I think it said that you had to turn against your partner in the last task."

Lorcan laughs sadly, and I suddenly realize what had me blocked before. There's something sad and pained in his eyes that just recently came about. I have no explanation for that look until I hear his next words, "Well, damn. I hope Scorpius is my partner, because I just asked Anna to be my girlfriend."

And just like that, my plan tumbles to the floor, despite my resoluteness to keep it up. I want so badly for it to work. I _need _so badly for it to work.

"And she said yes."

Things just got a whole lot more complicated.


	19. Chapter 19

I hide myself behind false emotion for the entire day. When Lorcan walks me down to my first class, Arithmacy, I try to compose myself along the way. My plan, which would have been so perfect, has just failed with a few spoken words. I can't be in love with Lorcan if he's dating Anna, because the time spent with him would be wasted unless he was slowly falling for me, too. And to be honest, I'm really quite jealous of Anna as it is. Even if I wasn't mad with her for ruining my plan, I'm jealous that she's with Lorcan.

"Lorcan?" I ask. Pamela, Al, and Caroline spot me near the door and make their way to me. I only have about ten seconds. "Why'd you ask out Anna?"

The answer I expect, which is him telling me that she was his first, isn't what comes out, "I don't really know, Rose."

And with those words he turns and leaves.

I stand there as the hallways slowly empties, and it's long after Pamela, Albus and Caroline have been next to me when I snap out of it. I am so dazed right now. His words have had an effect on me I couldn't possibly have predicted.

"Rose?" Albus finally asks. "Are you okay?"

Before I can help it, the words slip out, "How long has Lorcan liked Anna?"

I know that Al may figure out that I lied when I told him I was sad for Lorcan, not myself, that one cold night when I saw Scorpius kissing Anna at his window. But I could care less at this moment. Al must have known already, though, because he doesn't do anything but stand there as Pamela answers.

"He's never liked Anna," she says. She determinedly leaves out the fact that she was his first. "At least not that he showed."

"Are you sure?" I ask, my eyes slowly focusing on her dark face. "Because they're dating."

The reaction was definite, but the true reaction of the three of them is shallow and uncaring. Caroline grabs my arm and leads me away from Albus and Pamela, giving them a curt nod to leave.

"You're sure they're dating?" Caroline asks me. "Because, Rose, if they are…. Well, there's really only one reason Lorcan would."

I think I know her answer, but I ask why anyways. I could always be wrong. And right now, I desperately hope I am.

"He's trying to get over you," Caroline says, her eyes widening. "Or trying to get back at you for using him, but both of them have negative side affects either way."

So I was right. And I am speechless, because I hoped against hope that I wasn't. "What can I do for him, then?"

Caroline looks forlorn and saddened when she says, "Truthfully, I think you should just let him get over you. You don't like him more than a friend, and you never will."

I pause, thinking over my options. I could lie to her, telling her I will do just that and be fine with it. Or I could just tell her the truth; I like Lorcan. I _love _Lorcan. "Well…. Caroline, I don't think you understand. I can't tell him I don't like him."

"Why not? Rose, if you think he'll be broken hearted, you can't do much—"

"No, Caroline." I breathe deeply. "I can't tell him, because it's not true. I think I really am in love with him."

Her response, more than any response I've ever heard from anyone before, is the last thing I expected and the last thing I wanted to hear. "Rose…. I think, even if you do think you love him, you should let him get over you anyways."

And unfortunately, she's completely right.

XX

After the long and endless Arithmacy lesson, I make my way alone to the library. My footfalls echo in the abandoned hallway. I'm one of the few who have a free period at this time of day. The library has always been a sole comfort to me, as it was to my mother, but unlike her I never liked the crowded atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room. It was always too loud, too distracting, despite being able to socialize endlessly.

The library, as was the hallway, is desolate. Madam Pince smiles at me as I head to my table in the far back, in between two tall bookshelves and next to a large window, a place as private as the library goes. I set my bag down and slump into a chair. I'm not planning on studying; I just need to think.

_My mind fills with endless thoughts of the future; it is what matters most to me today, has always mattered most to me. Loving Lorcan is not only what I think I want, it's what I need, because it's so much safer than loving Scorpius. But….Scorpius. What do I do about him? There is a longing in my heart unparalleled to any other I've felt before for him. He is what I desire more than anyone, and I would kill to have no __repercussions __to loving him. But there __are__. It's dangerous. He's dangerous, and I can't risk it right now or ever._

I run my hands through my hair in frustration. All I really want is a long, peaceful rest, but for most of the year I have been on edge. I lift my head to the window, to the dark and oppressing clouds that seem ever constant in my mind. The grounds below are dark and deserted, the only sign of life coming from the billowing smoke in Hagrid's cabin. I watch and listen as sound of footsteps echo in the library, but I do not look away from the window. Maybe I never will.

"Want some company?" comes the voice from behind me. Scorpius seems to seek me out personally nowadays.

"What is it?" I ask. There's no reason to retaliate. I'm too tired to care about even the rudest snide he comes up with.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Since when has he cared? I want to say the words, but I can't bring myself to. Maybe I'll just pretend that he's being sincere. I am reminded of the morning he came into my room, confessing his love for me a second time, but this time thinking I was oblivious to his words. That was sincere, wasn't it? "You looked…broken recently."

But, see, there's my dilemma. I will never know if he's being honest and true, or if he is playing the most vicious and spiteful game yet. Either way I will have to trust myself to believe or to deny. Scorpius is right; I was broken. I am broken. I am broken because I love him, whether he does or not, and the only way I had to fix myself has completely failed.

"I'm fine." His footsteps come slowly, light clacks coming loud in the abandoned room, and then he is beside me. He sits and I watch, watch as he seems to exude concern and compassion. I can even feel him if I close my eyes. The filtering light through the window lands in his hair, reflecting off his pale skin in shimmers. His eyes are as deep as the Arctic Ocean, long and sorrowful. I can even see myself reflected in them, lost in the midst of the sea. I never noticed how similar Lorcan and Scorpius are in looks. Both have the same feathery-blonde hair, both the same icy blue eyes, and the same pale skin. The only difference is that Scorpius is tall, his muscles lean, his face drawn out and undeniably handsome. Lorcan is shorter, about my height, with a stockier build and a homely, rough face, but handsome all the same. My heart simultaneously longs for the two boys I can't even have.

"You're not," Scorpius says, matter-of-fact. And he's right, of course. But I refuse to admit it.

I don't answer. I let my eyes fall to the oak table, as if drawn there, too afraid to look him in the eyes and reveal what hides behind the lies. He probably already knows I love him, the way I ran off the night of the ball. But he can always be faking this concern, faking everything, and I'm so, so afraid that he is, and not just because it would be my downfall if I fell for it. I love him, and if his love for me is just a game, then I don't know how I'll ever recover.

"No," I say, deeply regretting and at the same time loving, the words that come from my mouth. "I'm not okay. But I will be."

Scorpius does something so unexpected I nearly fall off my chair; he reaches his hand out and takes mine. The effect this simple touch has on me is magical. My heart hammers, my blood rushes to my cheeks, my entire mind races with the possibilities of this simple thing. But above all, I think one thing, one crystal clear thought that fills me with hope: with this touch it is obvious he isn't pretending.

I love that he doesn't ask me what's wrong, or even look me in a questioning manner. Asking the question puts us on the edge of formal, and we both know how that ends. This silence between us, as we both gaze out at the parting clouds, is both comforting and thick with emotions I couldn't explain. If one touch does this, what comes with a kiss? I don't know how many times this thought has crossed my mind, but this isn't the first and it won't be the last.

We sit there, hand in hand, just content with the breaths between us, for over ten minutes. Then just as suddenly as it began, Scorpius turns to me and pulls his hand away. I watch his lips as he talks.

"You could have at least put on something nice for me," he says playfully. "You look like a hag, to be quite frank."

It takes me a moment to understand just what he's saying, and then I whack him. He's the only one I know who can change the atmosphere from gloomy to comical in a matter of seconds.

"You don't deserve something nice," I say.

"That didn't seem to be your mindset the night of the ball." He smirks widely. He's right, actually. The entire time I was dressing up, I was trying to think of what Scorpius would like. It was all for him. Well, most of it, anyways.

"I'm allowed to dress up for one night," I say, smiling, lighting up for him. He grins wider, the sun illuminating his skin.

"I wish you'd dress up again," he says. "I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful."

I can't help but blush when I say, "Maybe I'll do it again. Just for you."

"I'd like that."

We sit there for a while, the sunlight now streaming through the clouds and onto both of us. The silence, again, is not tense or awkward; it's simply _there. _It is weightless, like the first moment waking, calm and easy with the sunlight just breaching the horizon. I don't know where this will lead us, but the moment is beautiful and I don't want it to end.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmade this weekend?" I ask suddenly. Scorpius looks at me in pleasant surprise.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing," he says. A rare, genuine smile lights up his face. Just the sight makes me smile, too, and once more we are smiling like fools. Yet I'm enjoying every moment of it.

"I just might dress up for you," I say. We both laugh, and he stands up, the dust falling from him in a golden cascade.

"I look forward to it." With that, he leaves, his jeans rustling as he disappears behind my vision with a final swoosh of air. I turn around to look at him; the shadow of a smile is still on my face when he looks back at me. Just for a moment he stares, and just for a moment I notice something written on him: hope.

When he disappears, I know I have turned to my last answer, my last want. I couldn't play a game; I couldn't love Lorcan; I couldn't avoid Scorpius. So now I've arrived here, and it's more real to me than anything that has ever been between us.

And I'm suddenly willing to trust him.


	20. Chapter 20

XX

Hogsmade Village is nearly empty when we arrive. It's nearly sunset, the lights in the shops just flickering on, casting yellow shadows in the snow. The cold wind bites at my cheeks and I bury my face in my Gryffindor scarf. Scorpius and I walk side by side in silence. I would like to say that the silence was natural, but I would be lying if I said that. The silence is tense and, as much as I fear it, polite. But it's not like I can just start yelling at Scorpius and make this less awkward; it just doesn't work that way, unfortunately.

"Where do you want to go first?" he asks. I look up at him, smiling at the site of his pink cheeks, finally bitten with some color. His eyes look iced over in the fading daylight.

"How about a butterbeer?" I ask. I can see my breath and feel it, warm and wet against the fabric of my scarf. He leads the way towards the Three Broomsticks. I smile when he holds open the door for me; such a gentleman. The warm air sweeps over me in the soft glow of the sweet-smelling shop. I unravel my scarf and take a seat at a table while Scorpius goes over to order us drinks; I am suddenly acutely aware of how disheveled my hair must look. I'm willing to bet it closely resembles a mop.

"Not much of a crowd," Scorpius says as he takes his seat on the opposite side of the table. I nod in agreement. Students usually swarm this place. "People usually clap when I arrive in a room."

I look up at him, momentarily stunned. It only takes one moment, after seeing the haughty grin on his face, to realize that he's being a smart ass. The polite tension lifts, and I feel suddenly weightless.

"You really thought that was clapping?" I laugh. "You must be deaf."

"Only when you talk," he sneers. I smile despite myself. I must be blushing, because he smirks like he knows some secret about me.

"What are you smiling about?" I ask defensively, trying to hide my cheeks.

"You never noticed?" he asks, looking around at the few students who remain at the tables, most of them boys. "You draw every guy's eye in the room when you smile."

I smile sheepishly, even though I disagree with him. "How would they know when I smile?"

"Because your laugh is like music."

I feel like burying my blushing face in my arms, yet at the same time I feel like singing. Scorpius has rarely spoken of me in a positive way; this must be one of his good days.

"Are you in a good mood or something?" I ask.

"Only when you're around," he says cheesily. I almost think I like the attitude better.

"Well, most of the time when I'm around, you seem to have a stick up your ass, so….." That's better. Attitude.

"Only because you're a little miss know-it-all," he sighs, "who gets incredibly bitchy at times."

I scoff indignantly. "Why do you think I get bitchy? Because of you!"

He laughs and fakes concern, "I know you can't resist the urge to be a bitch around me, but really, Rosie, does that explain why you're a know-it-all?"

I squint at him. Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question? Because we both know the answer to that question. "Yes it does. If you weren't such a charmer to the teachers, I wouldn't have any competition."

"Oh, this coming from Rose-never-fails-to-raise-her-pompous-hand-and-voice-Wealsey?" he says, smirking. "And really, you'd want to be the absolute best even if I wasn't around."

"Yes, but my standards would be lowered considerably at what was 'best'."

"Are you saying I higher your standards?"

"Considerably."

I look around as the blonde waitress sets two steaming butterbeers in front of us, then giving Scorpius a flirtatious grin and a wink before turning around and leaving, her hips swinging exaggeratedly. I look over at Scorpius and raise an eyebrow. He shrugs.

"I can't help that I'm irresistible," he says smoothly. I scoff.

"You mean you can't help that you're an imbecile?" I say scathingly. Maybe there's a little too much true anger in my tone. I can't _help _but be jealous when a woman, older and prettier than me, tries to flirt with the guy I'm on a 'date' with.

"Well, she wasn't very pretty anyway," Scorpius says. I can tell he's trying to sound offhand, but I can sense how he's trying to reassure me that he has no interest in her. "She's not even my type."

Curious, I ask, "What's your type, then?"

He raises his own eyebrow playfully. I eye him carefully. "Oh, you know, red headed, intelligent, gorgeous…. Something like that."

I can't help but blush at his completely _corny _lines. "Well, if she colored her hair red and read a book, she'd be your type, then."

"No, Weasley," he says, sighing as if giving up. "The only type for me is you."

My blush is renewed again, but over the next half hour it fades slowly. To most people, half an hour is a long time to go without speaking, but to us it's just another conversation. Intellectual as we both are, we cannot read each other's minds. But we don't need to just to know that words aren't needed for a long time.

"Are you ready?" Scorpius asks, taking a last sip of his butterbeer before standing up and handing me my jacket. I try to stifle a giggle when I see a long white line of foam along Scorpius's upper lip. Cautiously, I take my finger and wipe it away, showing him the foam that appears on my finger.

We both laugh on the way out the door. It's sunset now, and only the harsh shop lights and the red glow on the horizon lights our way. Flakes of snow fall from the sky in large, slow flakes. On the path back to the castle Scorpius takes my hand, his long fingers and my warm ones intertwining lovingly. We both look at each other, and in the same moment, we both seem to know the other as if we _can_ read minds; we turn and head towards the woods in the opposite direction of the castle. I can see them from afar; the snow has blanketed all of the trees, leaving the mysterious woods looking mystical and peaceful.

The golden light of the sun is all that lights our path now. The sky is pink and white and beautiful.

I am ready, I think.

_Change surrounds us, like the last moment before the sun dips behind the mountains, plunging the glowing earth into utter darkness. It is not a change I could have predicted, nor a change I __can__ control __now__. It is a change that happens, and I am suddenly __willing to allow__ myself to let it change me as well, I will become night when the sun dies away. Is there a word to say to him to describe what I feel? No. What is now, in this present time, is beyond words and irreversible. It reminds me of the night of the ball, of the shattered glass window of falsehood, but this time my choice is conscious and voluntary. And this time I am sure of the truth on both sides. I am falling in so beyond love, and I am convinced he is too. What if I'm wrong?_

_What if I'm wrong?_

The snow is falling heavily now. There is a delicate weightlessness in the air. It swirls around us, me and him, and I feel breathless. I find myself looking at him in the most random moments. Snowflakes catch in his golden hair, weightless, untouchable, and altogether beautiful. They settle on his lips and eyelashes, and I want to reach up and grab them from him. A hundred precious moments to me; a million little breaths to the sky above. These are the things I should be treasuring now, not a first place trophy sometime in the future. I am lost, and I am lost for good.

"Rose?" Scorpius says. His breath condenses warmly in the air. The snow falls, and we walk on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, our footprints four and our minds one.

"Yes?" I respond. Because, at this moment, I could not deny him anything.

"Why did you run away?" he asks. "You know, after—"

"I didn't run away," I cut in sharply. "I just didn't know what to say."

We stop and turn to each other, watching as the fragile snow lands on us and all around us. There is a subtle change in his movements as he watches me. His eyes look as delicate as the snow falling on us. They are full of sadness, and an inexpressible beauty in the way he looks at me. I hold his hand tighter and we step closer.

"When someone says they love you," he begins, his breath falling sweetly on my face, "usually you give them an answer."

I whisper softly, "What if love isn't good enough of an emotion?"

He stares at me distantly. Contemplation takes time, I think to myself. He just has to figure out my words.

But I cannot wait forever. "Scorpius, I don't love you. I don't love you because I can't describe _what _I feel for you."

I answer my own question in those words. When Lorcan first kissed me, I had felt elated and giddy. It was the type of kiss that reminded me of true love: bold sunsets and fields of gold. Whenever Scorpius simply _looked _at me, it was a rush that set my veins on fire. It was addicting and wrong; it made my mind wander to places I had never dreamt of before: adrenalin filled touches, lips bitten with fervor. There was a passion indescribable in the way I thought of Scorpius. There was no such thing as simply _love. _It was an obsession, a desperate yearning, so much more than the simple solution that love was.

But that was why, more than anything I have ever known, I want him. I want him, not like I want air, because there was no need here. It was an additional want on top of what I need in general, like a rich dessert after dinner. There was no need for him, but I crave him more than anything I have before.

"So you don't love me?" Scorpius asks, and there is unanticipated damage in his eyes. "Because, Rose, you know I love you."

"I _don't _love you," I say in earnest. "But I _want _you."

I wasn't cold before now. I was heated by my warm clothes and just the heat of the boy beside me. But now it's as if all the warmth has gone from my body, crackling in the air around us, melting the untouched snow away and bringing on a new emotion rather than just this weightless feeling. I shiver uncontrollably, freezing.

And then I am lit on fire with a kiss.

We both move forward at the exact same moment, colliding in the cold air and sparking a flame of immense proportions. My legs go numb, then my arms, and then my entire being; everything has lost feeling except my lips. I can't process my feelings, my emotions, my thoughts. All I know is that Scorpius is under me, over me, all around me, everywhere about me there is his scalding touch of fire. It feels so horribly right, I can't bear another minute of it. But I do. I go on and on and on, just hands and hair, telling myself I will break away in a minute. I can stop any time I want to.

But the truth is I can't. I can't stop. It's like a drug to me, and I'm inhaling so much I must be completely overdosed. There are no consequences. There are no repercussions. Just him. And me. And this.

I kiss him with a passion I have never felt before, feeling higher than the clouds. This feeling. This delicious, fanatical, smoldering feeling is lighting both of us ablaze. And there is nothing I can do to stop it. I don't want to stop it, either. The heat flitting in the air around us is gone, as if it as concentrated itself into this one kiss, this one touch, this one moment. It's as if our bodies are aware that we must be convinced that this is right, or we may never kiss like this again. I am prepared to bet that when I surface (will that moment ever come?) my lips will be charred black with burns.

Two seconds have passed since our lips connected, yet it feels much longer to me. For the first time in my life I have put desire before logic. He moves his lips lightly against mine, cautiously testing his limits. Right now, I am thinking that there are no limits. I move my hand away from his slowly and entwine my fingers in his silky hair. I am tense and hyperaware, yet at the same time so completely lost in the feelings he's evoking within me. I can feel every flake of snow that lands on my bare cheeks, register every heartbeat in the mouth of both him and me. But I am so lost in him, I hardly even know myself anymore. He grips my back firmly with one steady arm. His cold fingers are intertwined in my hair. It's as if he, too, desires to be lost.

For a while we lose ourselves together.

He pulls me backwards, into the woods, and I remember _my_ woods. Inside them is mystery and intrigue, forbidden adventure…. Far be it from me to say that I've forgotten. My brain rattles to understand the meaning of this as we take our stances under the dense overgrowth of this magical place. He pulls me to him, the aroma of the snow soaked dirt mingling with the smell of his skin, and I am for once aware of my floral scent. What combines is, to me, what I've dreamt of in dreams of in dreams of golden meadows at first snow fall, the crisp breeze in the air, blowing my hair and wrapping me in myself.

It's everything I imagined as perfection.

We kiss, burning our lips with each connection, until simply kissing is not enough to feed the flame. I know my options: we either quench the flame now, or feed it until it burns down everything in its path. There is no turning back after the decision I make now.

So we embrace in what I imagine is a graceful way; although I'm sure to an outsider we are clumsy and cold. But to me we are inconceivably miraculous. As he runs his hand along my bare skin, I feel nothing but warmth; as he kisses my neck, nuzzling and groping, I feel everything but inexperienced and unsure; as together we make it so we can satisfy the need to finally combine our flames, I feel like we are the only two people in the world.

The silence and tranquility of the virgin snow is shattered as we scream. Every hateful word we've ever hurled, every mutual hatred we've ever shared, and every unique and burning fire that has spread between us cannot compare to this moment. It is beyond any sense or ability to recognize; it is not logical, this moment, but lyrical, like a beautiful song that makes you pound with emotion and feeling. In this moment, emotions and love are no longer just of mental capacity; it is a physical ability now to be able to feel love and passion on my skin. It's there, just like he is there, and just like I can't imagine he will ever go away.

XX

_At midnight you fell asleep. I watched from my balcony as your breathing became ragged and hard, then slowly, as if drifting into death, your chest began to rise and fall like the rhythm of the waves. You lay behind the glass of your room, untouchable, as if the snow I shivered in was beyond you; as beyond you as the stars in the sky. I watched you, and you didn't see me, nor did you know me. You will never know me, darling. We may watch each other in the night, in the morning, and we may even share a physical bond unlike any other when the sun has drifted to rest behind the hills. But, like the snow that drifts around me, there is a glass that separates us. Something indescribable is between us and it is no longer hatred; now, passion, but now: heartbreak._

The full brilliance of the moon cascades down on you. My very entity aches; for you, for me, for what lies between us. You are the moon and I am the sun, and between us, the dawn of morning and the twilight of night. They may fade into us, into one of us, but there is separation not in what we are as opposites, but in what we become together.

What we have now, what is us, just doesn't feel right to me.

Something in the way you shivered today, as we lay so tightly together in the woods, in the way your breath smelled of guilt and overjoyed happiness. It was all wrong to me….all wrong.

_But I will ignore it. I give you one last glance, your slow and shallow breathing, and I go into the unbearable warmth of my room. This is what I've wanted, what I've always wanted, and there is no stopping us._

XX

** Hey guys! Sorry for the long update! Camping, school, etc. Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello to all my wonderful readers! I cannot express my apologies enough. I should have updated sooner, but I've been so busy I don't know what to do with myself. Thanks so much to my wonderful beta, Lida (forever4), and my two beta's-in-waiting, Joelle8 and xxxnine-in-the-afternoonxxx. **

**Please review! I appreciate each and every word.**

XX

The periods of our lives are marked in between these four tasks. Before, Scorpius and I hated each other, as was ritual, then we pretended to love each other. It stopped, and now it has begun again, but it is far from pretend. I am convinced of the truth; in every action, in every reaction, there is love hidden beneath his eyes, his skin, his hands. In every minute gesture I find myself slipping deeper into the folds of his heart, warm and moist, ideal for my inhabitance. He is my everything; my everything that I never knew….

In those moments between falling asleep and waking, I know that I still don't know him. Beneath the gestures of love and loyalty is the unfamiliar and mysterious boy I always knew and despised. There is a deep and endless love for him within me, and each time I see him it stirs…. Yet each time I see him my heart constricts with pain. There is a boy I don't yet know. I have watched him grow for seven years, and there is a deep and intimate connection in the way I look at him today. But I can't get closer than what is allowed; there is, and always will be I'm afraid, a glass wall separating us. Transparent and spotless, I find myself forgetting it's even there. But when I'm forced to remember, I become saddened by the fact that it's _there. _After two months of acceptance, of love and devotion, of kisses and touches, there should be nothing separating us from each other. Yet there is.

"Rose?" he says, the firelight flickering warmly on his face. "Rose, I want to ask you something."

I nod, my quill working steadily over the sheets of parchment. "What is it?"

"Are you _sure _that you want to keep this relationship a secret?" he asks. "Because, you know, I'm perfectly fine with going public. I have nothing against it."

The scratching of my quill stops, and the room becomes silent except for the crackling of the fire. I have asked myself many times why I don't want anyone to know about me and Scorpius. My family's reaction would be unpredictable. I'm scared to death of telling them, afraid that not only will they reject Scorpius, but they will also reject me. I can't decide which is more important: the love I have for Scorpius, or a good future with my family.

The last conclusion is the one I rarely think about: the invisible wall, the things I still don't know about Scorpius, scare me to death. If I told anyone, it would make it final, and at some point it might be held against me…. But I don't want to think about that right now.

"I'm sure," is all I say before the scratching of my quill fills the room again. There is a quiver in my voice, a shaking in my hand, and I know he knows that there's more to those two words. The fact is I'm _not _sure. I'm not sure about Scorpius in general; all I know is that I love him.

He takes my hand, the shaking quelled, hidden, and I can feel the strength. The warmth, so contained unto his body but evoking so much within me. He squeezes my hand and smiles, the warmth reaching my own heart. I know he loves me. There is no denying it.

XX

One thing, one solid, unchanging thing is lessons. While everything is still hard and challenging, I find the easiest class to be Transfiguration. Professor Haas is determined we take it slow, lest we 'get out of control with our animal nature.' It's rare that we do anything more than two things in a day. She'll talk about animal characteristics, and if we're lucky we'll learn a little bit more about the spell. She still doesn't trust us with the spell.

"Good evening class!" the Professor cries exuberantly as we all enter. I've never seen her look quite so thrilled. She has a sparkle in her eye that, for once, doesn't look like she's committed a crime.

We all chime a greeting and take our seats. I look around to see if any of the class has noticed the way the Professor is acting. Maybe I'm just imagining things….

"Oh, I can hardly contain myself!" she cries suddenly, before everyone is even settled in. "Today, you will finally be learning the spell!"

I smile brightly, adrenaline jolting through me, extremely excited to finally be able to do something with everything I've learned. However, the rest of the class doesn't look too thrilled.

"Does this require more note-taking?" one girl asks.

The Professor looks stunned, "Well, no, not exac—"

"Will we be able to turn into animals now?" another asks.

"You will, very soon, but it takes—"

"Time, patience, and hard work," the entire class says simultaneously.

Professor Haas wrinkles her nose in annoyance. "Fine. Let's just see how you all get along with saying the name, first."

She picks up her wand and says something I can't even pronounce. It sounds something like 'youghufreecilass,' and then ten other words that are beyond even hearing correctly. The Professor laughs at our shocked faces.

"Oh, you children," she says, waving a hand. "All so very gullible. No, the spell you'll be attempting to say isn't as hard. Repeat after me. _Bestiaverto."_

"_Bestiaverto," _everyone repeats back.

"Good, now roll your 'R's," she says. "_Bestiaverrrrrto."_

"_Bestiaverrrrrrto."_

It goes on like this for the next twenty minutes, and just as I'm sure she will never let us pick up our wands, the Professor announces that we can attempt to change into animals (with partner supervision, of course. At this, I remember that my partner, Scorpius, and I are now on very good terms) but we have to find the right emotion that will change us. You have to feel like your animal, whatever it may be.

We had turned in our reports three days ago on which animal we think we would be, and I picked my patronus, a red fox. I had only gotten a passing grade on that, and when I had asked Professor Haas about that, she said I had to dig deeper than my skin.

I'm not really sure what's there, I think as I stare dreamily at Scorpius. All I can feel is _him. _

XX

The next day, once again on my way to Transfiguration, I walk and talk with Lorcan. He looks a little bit tired of my company, actually.

"So how are you and Anna doing?"

Lorcan looks at me as nonchalantly as he can manage, but I can tell he's troubled.

"Good. Fine, I suppose," he says. There is honesty in his eyes; yet it's not the love I expected him to feel for her.

I silently ask him if he wants this. In his eyes, I see the cold wonder I always see in him, but I see no future in them that is always so brilliantly lit. There is only this choice he made, this option that has enabled him without any other option.

We remain silent on our way to Transfiguration.

"With the next task coming up quite soon," Professor Haas begins as we take our seats, "I would like to reach the point of actually_ performing _the spell. But, as you are mostly a bunch of dimwits, I doubt it will happen before the last month of school."

Rather than an outbreak of noise, there is a sudden silence, all eyes on the Professor.

"Oh, yes, yes, I know you're all excited to stop having class out of the text books," she says with a wave, "but I must once again implore to you all how _disastrous _this spell is if you perform it wrong. So, today, I'm going to show you some of the horribly horrible things about this spell!"

With a smile, she launches into a lecture about the spell (still refraining from mentioning the charm word) and the problems that come with it.

"Enunciating the vowels too much may result in a physical deformation, and a mental deformation with the consonants. Saying it wrong but doing the correct wand movement will render you unable to move, and likewise with the right words but wrong movement. Now, while many things can go wrong with the spell itself, there is only one thing that can go wrong once you're in animal form…."

It isn't long before Professor Haas's voice begins to fade in and out of my ears. I suppose I'm overly confident in my wand ability, but what really distracts me is Scorpius. Sitting two rows ahead of me, in the direct afternoon light flooding through the window, I am utterly hypnotized by the way he moves. Every eloquent shift in him creates a wave of dust through the air, glittering in the light. His hair is golden and windblown. I remember last night, running my fingers through it, thinking that I'd never felt anything so soft.

Despite the warmth in the room, just thinking of Scorpius makes me feel chilled. Not cold, exactly, but I shiver as if it is. I remember that day in the trees, beneath the winter clouds, our first time where our emotions had fully taken over. It certainly wasn't the last; every moment possible we are together, holding and kissing, simply unable to get enough. I love him with all my heart and soul.

Lorcan shoves me lightly in the side. I look over at him, realizing my cheeks are flushed, and quickly cover my hands over them. Not even Lorcan knows about Scorpius and I, or at least how close we've gotten. I think the only people who have the slightest idea are Pamela and Caroline, and even they just know that we've become closer in recent months. No one knows of the intimate and emotional relationship we now share; I'm not sure I want anyone to know.

I don't look at Scorpius for the rest of class, my eyes kept firmly on Professor Haas, even though I don't listen in the slightest. I find my thoughts wandering to Lorcan. How miserable he must be with Anna. I hate the thought of my hurting him, but I can't help it.

No one can help being in love.

That night it's cool as if it was winter again. We're now well into spring, the waters of winter bringing to life the dullest places on the grounds. The grass is brighter, the flowers flushed, the very trees singing in their sudden bloom. I'm out on the balcony, inhaling the sweet heady scents of spring, when I feel a pair of arms encircle me. I breathe in excitedly, smelling the breeze of sugar. I am suddenly dizzy. But for now I don't quite mind.

His lips are on mine before I know it, pressing against the heart I now wear on my skin. It pulses for both of us, between us, infinitely beating as our lips rhythmically part and connect again and again. A warmness spreads throughout, a sort of fluttering feeling that comes with nerves, but I enjoy it more than I could say. My breath catches, and with it comes a new way of kissing.

We move out of the cool night air and into the warmth of my room. I can feel it as the silver light leaves me, becoming the warm glow of the lamps, placing us in a room of deep shadows. As I am laid delicately in the bed, I want to find words. I want to give myself to him rather than just in physical ways; love has been radiated out from me, and he knows I love him.

"I love you." But I've never said it before.

His iced eyes flash dangerously before he comes down on me. I am drunk and dizzy and warm for a while, my breath coming in hot gasps, and before I can bring myself to mutter those words one more time he is beside me, kissing me and pulling me closer.

"There's something amazing about hearing those words," he says, and I breathe for the first time. Our warmth seems to spread into the cold of night, carrying infinitely on the breeze.

"I've never said them before," I say, about to tell him just why. But suddenly I myself am saddened by my thoughts. I didn't want to say it because saying it somehow made our love final; as if it was now so irrevocable that I couldn't possibly think straight. But I didn't want it to become final simply because I wasn't sure of the trust I could place in this boy. But how could I have ever thought such a thing? He's earned everything, and I trust him more than I trust myself.

"You don't trust me," he says, reading my thoughts.

"No," I say quickly, "no, Scorpius, that isn't true. I didn't trust you before; now I trust you completely. I was just being stupid, is all. There's nothing wrong now."

"Don't trust me….," he mutters, the words so faint I think for a second he's just stunned. "Rose…. don't trust me." His arms tighten almost uncomfortably around me. I am suddenly clear-headed, and I smell the acidic scent of something on his breath.

"Scorpius, you've been drinking." His arms are hard as rocks around my middle, set in stone, as if he will never let go again. But I can feel the breaths of him on my neck, soft and even, and I know he's fast asleep.

Something about this isn't fair, or right. He may have muttered nonsense tonight, but I may has well have been as well. He won't remember in the morning; three words I've never said before have blurred with this night.

Love is an irrevocable thing, I think. At least right here, right now, it is. I love him, and he will know that when the morning comes. But I feel shunned; hurt. He won't remember anything of this night. I fall asleep sadly, feeling I may never say the words again.


	22. Chapter 22

The morning light dawns too bright in my eyes. Scorpius is gone; I am suddenly left with a chilling coldness that has nothing to do with the temperature. I was up all night, just waiting, as if I was expecting him to open his eyes and be sober and remember everything. His words would be cold and dry and so completely clear-headed that I could finally breathe again.

I let my breath drift into the streaming sunlight, marking patterns on the plush carpet. I can hear the rushing water suddenly through the wall, pumping through the pipes like some type of hungry monster. I remember the tale of the basilisk in my parent's second year of school; unfortunately, it makes me remember that the third task is but a week away.

The only information I know about this task is that we have a partner. Who that partner will be, I don't know, but as of now I'm not even sure I want to know. Having a partner will change a lot of things. I may not know what the third task will test in the relationship between myself and my partner, but I know that whatever the fourth task is, loyalty is key. I don't think I could pull it off if I was with Anna; being loyal to her is like asking me to hate Scorpius.

I hear as the running water stops and he slips into the bath. I am filled with a sudden heat, an anger, with his state last night. I've never seen him drunk before, let alone drink at all, and I don't see how he could have been on the night I told him I loved him.

I hope he has an unbearable headache.

I flick my wand in the direction of the patio doors, flinging them open to let the breeze mingle with the sweet sunlight. I pull on my clothes, brush out my hair, and am out on the balcony before I can count to five. It's rare that I wake up to such a beautiful morning. Not a cloud in the sky, the trees green and gold in the morning light, the grass swinging below like waves on the ocean. Hagrid's hut is smoking with a renewed wonder. The greenhouse walls are fogged over with the humid hot air from inside. I can smell bread baking in the breeze; possibly Hagrid baking a few rock cakes for breakfast. I always wondered if he ever really ate them himself.

I am suddenly pressed against the ledge by a moist body. I can't say I wasn't expecting it; there is nothing he doesn't notice, and I couldn't have hidden my anger even if I truly tried. I don't want an apology, though. I don't think he understands the true consequences of his actions.

"Rose," he says, his breath fresh as a breeze in my ear. I shiver delicately. "Rose, please don't be mad."

"What am I mad about?" I ask.

"You know," he says, as if he knows everything, but in truth just doesn't want to say the words. He loves his pride.

"I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed."

"That's the same thing to me."

I sigh so hard his arms loosen around me. "Why were you drinking, anyways?"

"Family troubles."

I tense immediately, afraid of that one word Scorpius almost never mentions. We try to avoid the topic of family, in light of this year, as there's already too much on both of our minds to really care about what our parents think of our love life. Although I know what their reaction would be, and I would do anything for them not to find out.

"What kind?"

As if in slow motion, his hands grip my sides, turning me slowly until I face him, his silhouette painted golden. I can't help but think about how handsome this boy is, forever mine, while he seems to sing the words I hoped I would never have to hear: "They know."

Many things tumble around me in that moment, but one of the most important things is the three words I said last night. Scorpius's father will hate me forever, and his mother will grow to accept me. But my parents will eternally regret the choice I made. I will grow as a burden in my parent's eyes; I will be a failure.

I hold my gaze with him until he falters slightly. His gaze is hopeful in a slightly unnerving way. It's as if he's waiting for me to falter as well.

An internal battle wages within me. I love Scorpius; I love him more than anything. But do I love him more than being a success? I have always broken my future in two ways: loving what isn't right, or doing what is right. What choice do I make? Do I even have a choice?

I don't have a choice now that Scorpius's parents know; it's not like I can change that. Maybe my parents will never find out, and at this point that is all I can possibly hope for.

"Scorpius," I say, my voice strong and cool, "I love you. I love you, and no one can change that. I don't care if your parents know, they aren't changing anything."

His eyes betray something besides his usual confidence. "I guess we'll know next weekend if they care or not."

Those words, and then he's done talking. His arms leave my sides, and he altogether vanishes without a smile, without a glance, without a word. My heart falls into my stomach. I feel sick. I just said that I love him…. And there he goes. I just gave up a future for him, and he's walking away. I feel tears prick my eyes as he vanishes from my sight. I try to hold back the tears, but loving him has its consequences. Right now, and for the rest of the foreseeable future.

I don't want to think about it right now, as there's nothing I can do to change what Scorpius's family knows. But I will have to choose at some point in the near future: love Scorpius, or succeed.

Somehow over the next few days my love for him overcomes my fear of his parents, as well as my dejected heart at him ignoring my I love you's. I can't predict their reaction, if they even react at all, and that's what scares me the most. But there is a certain limit to the fear one can have when all that ever surrounds you is rough embraces and passionate kisses.

The homework the week before the task flows to a standstill, and most everyone can be seen on the grounds, the newly green grass waving at their ankles. There are times when I long to go outside and sit among spring, with Scorpius by my side, with no fear whether or not anyone will accept us. But for now we are stuck inside. But his arms are as fresh as the grass, his breath as sweet as the breeze. There is no need for spring when he is here.

The morning before the day of the task, I watch as the golden wings of Rabbles flutter into the Great Hall. I'm too occupied with glaring at Anna and Lorcan as they laugh and touch each other to really care what Rabbles may be carrying. It's only when he knocks over my goblet trying to get my attention do I really notice what he is carrying: a letter with 'Rosie' written on it in my dad's messy script.

"Oh no," I say. Albus looks over at me oddly. I just shake my head and pray to Merlin that this isn't what I think it is.

As soon as I take the letter, Rabbles lifts away, and I am slightly saddened by his departure. I look down at the letter, trying to control my shaking limbs.

_Rosie,_

_As revenge, your mother and I have decided not to come to the third task._

I nearly collapse at these words. He knows!

_Just kidding, Rose. While we're still mad that you haven't written this year, we have decided to forgive you. Well, your mother has anyways. But unfortunately we really can't make it to the third task. The second and third tasks were the two busiest moments for the ministry. Well, the fourth will be so insanely busy it's near impossible to sleep at all—Oh, well I've said too much. But we are both very proud of you for winning Ravenclaw's task. That's the witty girl we love! We can come a day before the fourth task to see you off, but your mother and I will have to leave soon after. Fortunately, almost everyone in the family will remain at Hogwart's for the fourth task. Good luck tomorrow! _

_Lots of love,_

_Mum and Dad_

My relief is so extreme that I am unable to move for nearly five minutes. They _don't _know. They haven't the slightest inkling. And if they don't know…. Then I don't have to worry!

"Oh, Albus!" I say excitedly. "I'm excited for the third task, how about you?"

He looks at me strangely. "Well, it's Slytherin's. Who knows how evil it will be?"

"Oh, be a bit more optimistic, won't you!" I say. I don't want anyone to kill my mood. "There's no reason I can't win!"

"That's right, I forgot. You're incredibly wicked and evil."

"That's right," I say smugly. "And don't forget it."

I whack him on the back of the head as I get up to leave. As I exit the hall, the crowded noises disappearing behind me, I come across possibly the most frightening sight of my life: Draco Malfoy and his wife, Astoria Greengrass. Both look as if age hasn't yet touched them. Draco has the exact same shade of hair as Scorpius, bleach blonde, with the same icy blue eyes. He has features that have hardened with age, giving him the appearance of a rather unfriendly stranger. Thankfully, Scorpius has his mother's face, with soft, kind features and slightly darker skin than his father's. I find it hard to believe what Scorpius had once told me: his parents didn't like him.

The one thing about being a Weasley is that any person who ever hated us is automatically alerted every time they see the fire-red hair. So it was without surprise when both Malfoy's eyes fell on me. There was something terrible in both of their gazes that had nothing to do with the fact that I was dating their son. In fact, if Scorpius hadn't told me, I wouldn't have guessed that they knew at all. Instead in their gazes was smugness; a sort of contempt look that I have seen on the faces of different Quidditch teams for my entire life: it was the face of a winner.

I was so scared by the look that I quickly looked away and ran fast up to my room, breathing hard the entire way.

I should have been expecting them coming. I really should have. But their appearance is sudden and scary, and it's as if I'm suddenly facing a much worse thing than the third task.

As classes were canceled today, I have nothing to do but to go up to my room and brood in self-empathy. For the first time in what seems like years to me, I'm completely alone, without Scorpius, Albus, Pamela, Caroline, or Lorcan by my side. No one is around me, questioning my every thought and glance. No one expects anything of me at this moment. So, I head up into the bathroom for what may be my last peaceful bath for a long, long time.

This task is, as Albus said before, Slytherin's. The quality I'm most familiar with of the founder is simply evil. But surely this task doesn't involve us to do anything evil? Or maybe we'll be battling evil…. I don't know which I would rather face.

I try to let the worries melt from my mind as I slip into the hot bath. I remember that night when Scorpius stood in the corner, watching as I approached, my one and only goal to make him falter in infatuation. It might have worked. Maybe I'll never know how our silly little game stopped, but all I know is that it did stop. I wanted to win, and that was my only goal. But has my goal changed now that I know our love is true? I want to say yes, but I can't say I love him if I want anyone to accept me.

So many thoughts ring in my head as I float on my back. There isn't a sound around me. It's a warm, tranquil silence. It's the type of quiet I've been missing these past few months. I stare up at the clean white ceiling as I lay adrift, willing with all my heart for my mind to be this blank.

XX


	23. Chapter 23

**Aaah! So much going on, this is ridiculous. I'm so sorry I haven't been updating regularly. To repay you, I included all 3,000 plus words of the third task. This task was actually my favorite to write. I know I'm going to have my reviewers screaming by the end, but trust me, it's all part of the plan! The fourth task (Hufflepuff's) is actually my favorite, so I'm super excited for that. **

**A bazillion thanks to Lida (forever4) for jumping back on board in the last couple chapters. And now, thanks to Jo (Joelle8) for editing these next few. It's been a great ride. I can't believe this story's more than half way done!  
**

**Here it is: The Third Task**

**XX**

Down on the courtyard in the hot summer twilight the following day, nothing could be less perfect. The Headmistress has just told us about the task: we will be facing a giant, enraged snake. Whenever all four of us ask the question, 'Is it really a basilisk?' with high-pitched fear in our voices, the Headmistress conveniently switches to another topic. If I was more scared I might wet myself.

"By a large margin, this task is the most challenging so far," McGonagall says. Well, thanks Headmistress. I completely hadn't guessed that yet! "But you will have a considerable amount of help."

We all look around at each other, sharing confused glances. It's slightly odd that we're all on pretty decent terms nowadays. Scorpius and I don't hate each other -far from it; Anna and Lorcan are seemingly in love as well. Lorcan and I are still best friends, and Anna and Scorpius….well, I would rather not think about that. But I hardly even know what Anna and I would be like if we ever said more than three words to each other, and likewise with Lorcan and Scorpius, although Lorcan would remain indifferent in any case.

"Now, as you may have already heard, you will have partners for this task. They can be help or hindrance depending on how you work together, your relationship, and a variety of other factors. And while I can't say very much about the rest of the factors in this task, let me give you a hint and a warning: take notice of the creatures around you as they can help you, but whatever you do, don't pay too much attention to them."

_Well then! That has to be the most helpful tip I've gotten all day!_ I think. Oh, what a joy this should be.

Just then, the Minister of Magic himself comes out of the forest, eerily appearing straight out of the fog. "Ah, the joys of magical fog," he says. "It's very spooky."

The Minister is none other than Lorcan's father. His mother Luna had met him in the Ministry, as both had begun work in magizoology, and it had been an instant spark. It was the most hilarious thing to sit at their table for dinner, all talk of blast-ended skrewts, whobe-whatsits, smoking dinga-lings, honking hornets, and about a hundred other creatures I have no name for. They would all talk of them as if they were as real as the earth beneath their feet. How the man got to be Minister I have no idea, but I love their family to death.

"No hug from the Weasley!" he bristles. I laugh and hug his slim middle. I watch as he ruffles Lorcan's hair affectionately. "Lorcan, son, when was the last time you saw Lysander? He seems to have lost himself."

Lorcan looks suspiciously up at his father. "It's been six months since I last saw him, father. Where did you see him last?"

"He was in this very forest! But he seems to have vanished! Maybe he went looking for striped harpies."

Lorcan looks at me, knowing of my hilarious take on their family's customs, and I burst out laughing. Before I can wonder what in the world is wrong with my mood-swings, out comes Lysander, looking as lost as ever, from the edge of the forest.

"Father, I've only been gone a night. No need to worry." Lysander smiles brightly, and next to me I hear Anna sigh dreamily.

Lysander is just about the most handsome man anyone could ever wish to meet. He has Lorcan's streaked blonde hair (although none of the messiness I love in Lorcan's), chiseled muscles, and high cheekbones, but that is where the resemblance stops. To me they look like twins, but to most people, Lorcan is a bashful little boy in comparison. Lysander has deeply tanned, perfect skin, with light golden eyes, the features of a hard built man, and the face of an angel…. Well, so says the entire girl population excluding myself.

"Hello, Rose," Lysander says. He takes my hand and graciously kisses it, but I feel absolutely nothing except for revulsion. Did I mention Lysander is a cocky, arrogant boy? He's lovely and polite at home, but in public his eyes are filled with greed and hate no matter who his gaze is directed towards. "It's been too long. I've missed your red hair."

Also: Lysander has been in love with me since the day I got breasts. If that doesn't tell you the kind of guy he is, I suppose nothing will.

"Enough with hello's," Scorpius and Lorcan say at the same time. I could kiss them both!

"Can we get on with the task?" Scorpius adds.

"Yes, please," Lorcan agrees.

Lysander moves back beside his father, who was talking politely with McGonagall before now. "Ah, yes!" he says. "The partners!"

I have this overwhelming sense of dread as the Minister flicks his wand, bringing forth a deep bag and four little strips of paper. I have a one in three chance of my partner being a bad one. And even if it is Scorpius or Lorcan, who's to know how well we will work together under pressure? We all are asked to write our name on a little strip of paper, but my hand is shaking so badly that I magically make my signature write itself instead.

The four papers zoom back into the bag, where it then throws itself in front of the Headmistress. "I'm going to pick two people to come forward and pick their partners. Those two people will not be partners, as will the two people remaining. The choice is half and half."

I hold my breath. The names are called, and Lorcan and Scorpius step forward. I am slightly relieved at this, but suddenly my heart begins to race even faster. I can feel the blood pulsing loudly in my veins. This choice will determine my fate for the next two tasks. This could not be a bigger moment, and it lies in the fate of a bag. A bag. I want to scream!

"Who'd you pick, Scorpius? Lorcan?" Because before I know it, Scorpius and Lorcan have pulled their hands out of the bag, and they are now opening the small slips of paper. Slowly, slowly, as if time has stopped. What if it's Anna who Scorpius has picked? Then they'll be in love again, and I will be all but forgotten. But Lorcan will help me win, I know it, I can't be sad, I just can't—

"Rose." I have tears in my eyes as Scorpius turns around, his smile small and glorious, and he walks to stand by my side.

Lorcan takes his place besides Anna. Is this a good or bad thing? This is what I wanted all along…. I think.

"No time to talk!" the Minister yells. "Into the forest for you! Follow the glowing lights as it gets darker! Good luck to you all; we will see you on the other side!"

Stunned into silence, Scorpius takes my hand and makes me run, yanking my arm into following in the fog-spattered, glowing, alive and deadly forest.

"Remember!" I hear Professor McGonagall yell behind us; she sounds like she's pleading. "Slytherin!"

And then all I hear is heavy breathing and the all-too quiet forest.

The light fades quickly from the trees. It was a golden bronze twilight when we entered the forest, and while it seems to have only been a few minutes of following the winding trail at a steady jog, the colors of the forest have already faded into a soft pink glow. It looks beautiful at this time, suspended between the harshness of daylight and the enclosing darkness of night. I suppose I'm trying my very hardest not to think about where this path takes us, but I really am captivated by this beauty. This is nothing like the mysterious image I see every time I think of the woods. This is….it's hypnotic.

"Aren't you scared of the—the snake?" I huff to Scorpius. His eyes are darting in every direction, alert, and he keeps reaching back to pull me along faster.

"Yes, but we have to get there first Rose, or we won't win," he says.

"How—how are they going to score us if we're—together?" I ask. Every time I look around I slow down, so I try to keep my focus on Scorpius's vigilant blue eyes.

"I'm not sure," he pants, as if he's suddenly tired from running. "But aren't—aren't you glad you're with me?"

We both smile at each other, and for a moment I forget about the competition. I stop him suddenly and pull him to me, kissing him with a fierceness I've never felt before. He presses me to him roughly, inhaling deeply, and he too kisses with an intensity I've never before felt. I lose my senses as everything around me fades to just washed out colors. I am so enamored with this boy I can hardly believe it.

"Yes," I breathe, kissing him one last time. "I'm glad I'm with you."

I grab his arm and keep him running, looking in joy at his shell-shocked face. He looks as if he's just woke up. It's nice to see him show some emotion for once; I can't help but laugh.

We continue running until I can see the moon over the tops of the trees. There is a point where my legs stop becoming tired, the pain in my chest stops throbbing, and my lungs stop their never-ending burning. I am focused on the forest at night, as the heat fades from the world around me and everything is bathed in cool silver. The beauty is captivating, truly. If Scorpius wasn't there to pull me along the trail, I probably would have stopped to sit and just stare.

That's when I see the fairies. There is a blue glow, then another, then two more, and then suddenly they're everywhere. Most of them line up against the edges of the path to show the way, but others float effortlessly around our heads as we run faster (Scorpius is pulling my arm harder now). They hardly move their wings, as if they're gliding on air, staring at us with large, wondering eyes. I have to close my eyes to their brightness and make Scorpius lead me for a while.

Suddenly Scorpius pulls me to a stop. I can smell something horrible in the air, like rotting flesh. The fairies are coming closer to me now, resting on my shoulders, sitting in my hair. I can hear them whispering songs to each other. It's beautiful music, and for a moment I almost forget about the horrible smell. My eyes are still closed.

And that's when I feel the hot, rancid breath on my neck. I scream and the fairies lift up in a frenzy of buzzing wings. I can hear the rub of skin against dirt, like something being dragged. I don't want to open my eyes anymore.

"Rose!" Scorpius yells. "Keep your eyes closed, no matter what!"

"Scorpius!" I yell. I can no longer feel his arm on me, and I'm scared to death that he's in danger. "Scorpius, tell me what's happening!"

I hear him gasp and gurgle, as if he's drowning, and my fear doubles. I have always loved water, but it's my worst fear in the whole world to be in trouble in water. "Rose, do not open your eyes! Whatever you do, keep them closed!"

I am trembling in the cold now. I can hear the noises of a fight around me. Scorpius is in some water, but to my relief it's shallow as I can hear him running in it. His feet sound so heavy dragging through the water. The only other thing I hear besides the battle is the occasional hiss and flutter of fairy wings. I just wonder how big the snake is.

One of the fairies begins tugging on my hair. I try to bat it away, but it won't leave. Several of them are around me now, tugging on anything they can grab. One of them even takes hold of my eyelashes, pulling fiercely upwards, and a few others join them. I keep my eyes closed tightly. I try to, anyways, but it's not long before my eyes are forced open.

And once my eyes are open, I simply cannot close them.

The pathway we had come off of is behind me, still glowing with fairies, and the path seems to end at the bright blue water…. The water, which is shallow and glowing with a million tiny fairies, still flickering and fluttering but all….all of them are slowly drowning before the lair of the snake.

The snake's lair is almost twenty feet high, but only about five feet in length. It is made of the same black, shimmering stone that was in the first task, entwined with poison ivy on the edges. It is all aglow with the blue fairies as they watched the fight between Scorpius and the snake. And as I finally turn my eyes to the snake, I cannot help but scream. It is smaller (but somehow more terrifying) than what I think a basilisk would look like, even though I don't know if it's not a basilisk, with glistening sapphire scales that almost look pretty…. But then I again smell the horrible smell that protrudes from its mouth, and I run forward towards Scorpius with my wand held high and jetting a hundred spells at once. Scorpius is battling the snake with his wand, looking below it at its stomach rather than its eyes.

"Scorpius, hold on, I'm coming!" I yell. The water….oh Merlin, the water, it crunches beneath my feet. It thickens with each step that takes me closer to the snake. I am getting so slow, so tired, so sick. This is sick. These poor, dying fairies. I have to help them….

"Aaaah!" Scorpius screams. I look up from the glowing blue water. He is now trapped beneath the snakes crushing body, and I think -no, I _know_ that I have never been so terrified in my life. If anything happens to Scorpius, I would never be the same again. I love him too much for him to go now. "Rose, save the fairies! Save them! Don't save me!"

Something about those words is wrong. Why should I save the fairies? Did he think that was the goal of the task? I love Scorpius, so what does anything else matter? Drunkenly I move forward, sloshing through the water, hazily muttering spells that do nothing in making the snake loosen its grip from Scorpius. Scorpius turns suddenly, as if seeing me for the first time, begins to shout as if he's mad, moving his arms wildly as if distracting the snake.

"Rose, it's not a basilisk!" Scorpius says, his breath wheezing from his lungs. "Shoot it—shoot it in the eyes!"

I take my wand and shoot blindly at its eyes, too afraid to look directly into them. "Scorpius, I'm too far away! You have to shoot it!"

He picks up his wand and shoots, too, but suddenly something horrible happens: without warning, his wand flies from his hand, over my head, and to the shore of the lake. "Rose!" he coughs, and in the distant blue light I can see him turning purple with lack of air. "Rose, look in its eyes and shoot!"

There is something oddly strange about a lover calling to you, as if from afar, calling upon you your deepest fear, a most horrible request. If a lover calls to you, when you truly love them you will answer. You will answer with all your heart and soul, because they make that fear seem irrational. I am so in love I can't help it when I answer the call. It isn't a basilisk, so I can look it directly in the eyes. I hope it can feel my hatred gazing right at its horrible, menacing eyes. I willed it to let go of Scorpius, my friend, my love…..

But I never will it to attack me.

Because the instant my gaze meets the snake's eyes, I realize two things: her eyes are beautiful, golden slits, and are coming straight at me with all the hatred in the world. And the pathway that will take Scorpius and me to safety was behind the snake the entire time. So, in the span of half a second, this doesn't register with me as odd. But in a last, desperate attempt to save myself and the boy I love so dearly, I throw my wand high into the air near Scorpius and watch as it falls into the pool of glittering, dying fairies.

The last thing I see is Scorpius take the wand calmly from the water, shaking the dead from its tip, and turning. I watch as he disappears into the pathway lit by a million living fairies.

And when the snake takes me in its death hold, for a moment I think of letting it kill me. I don't even believe that he has consciously left me here to die. There must be a mistake. He must be going to get help, or going around for a sneak attack. I really and truly don't believe that he just left me for dead, but somehow I know it's true. There is nothing worth living for now that he is gone- and if I'm not mistaken, he is gone. But I let myself hope for a few breath-stealing moments that maybe, just maybe, he'll come back. He will come back.

But when he doesn't, I fight the snake with the anger and ferocity of a hundred killers.

I grab hold of the snake's slick scales and try to pull on them. They are so tightly compacted and slick that it is nearly impossible to rip even one off. But once I scratch over one again and again, it finally comes off, and after that I can't stop. I pull them all off, one by one, ripping her open until a silvery substance drips down her skin and onto mine. This seems justified somehow, as if it was this snake that made Scorpius leave and this snake that has left me with all the pain and sadness the world has ever carried. Even if that doesn't seem right, I tell myself I have to do this to escape. I scream and yell and even growl, but I am too focused on surviving, too focused on anger that I do not notice anything but the pain I am putting this beast in. She screams. She hisses. That is all I hear for a while.

I loosen her grip on me just enough to get everything but my legs out. The fairies begin dancing and flying rapidly at the smell of the snake's blood. Even I can smell it, even more rancid than her breath, but with a color so beautiful I can hardly describe it. I rip and tear at the sore spots, working in on places I see up close my spells have reached and are soft and easily ripped open. I see that Scorpius never laid a mark. He was waiting for me.

With each thought of him I rip harder, with my two bare hands growing bloodier by the minute. I don't know how long it's been, but finally I am free of her grip. She twists in upon herself and moans over her broken skin, ignoring me, and I feel immensely proud of my two bare hands. Even if I feel a twinge of pity, a shock of sympathy, for this beast that was really just doing her job, I am over it quickly. I find Scorpius's wand amongst the twigs and dead fairies along the shore. With a heavy heart and malicious mind, I pick it up and viciously snap it in as many pieces as I can.

I walk towards the path of fairies that I know will take me out of this place. If there is one truth I know out of every lie and deception I've been fed, I know that I am safe now. It's over.

I drop Scorpius's wand in the lake of the dead and walk on into the night.


	24. Chapter 24

**So, so sorry for the long update! It's been too long. No excuses. Thanks to my editor, Jo (joelle8) I will update soon! Review please!**

XX

When I arrive into the blinding artificial light of the stadium, I am met with the silence of more than a thousand people. I can understand their silence. I am probably in last place right now (even though I could sort of care less), drenched in shimmering and horribly beautiful snakes blood, and must look like hell with a furious mind to match. And I have no wand.

I see Scorpius, smiling and whispering with his parents, and in a single instant my bubbling anger that has only just begun to show erupts to the surface like a volcano in silence for a million years. I scream so loud I feel my throat rip. I clench my fists so hard I feel my hands begin to bleed. And before anyone even knows what's going on, I am ten feet from Scorpius and with my bloody hands going straight for his throat.

I know what this will mean. Killing him will put me in Azkaban, but in a moment of such fury I don't give a fuck. I will go to hell and back and even marry Satan if it means Scorpius's death. I don't care about a future. I don't care about anything but this boy, and it's in a way that I would have never suspected of myself three hours ago.

But out of nowhere there is Lorcan. His arms are around me and he is yelling, fighting, and holding me so horribly I think for a moment of attacking him. Maybe he's joined Scorpius's side, and realized before anyone else what I was about to do. He's certainly not letting me attack him like I'd like.

"Rose!" he yells in my ear, and it's the first word that has been coherently registered in my mind. "Rose, think about what you're doing!"

I think about it, sure, but that stops nothing. I still want to murder Scorpius. I want to see his blood on my hands, beautiful like the snake's, but I want it to burn my flesh and remind be how much of a horrible abomination this boy is—

"Rose, please," Lorcan says calmly. I wish I was stronger than him, but I can't make him budge. "I love you too much to watch you be like this."

At his words, for the first time, Scorpius turns and looks at me. I know he's been choosing to ignore me, because the entire world must have heard my scream, watched my deadly lunge. I can feel a thousand pairs of eyes on my bloody neck right now, but Scorpius has just added another ten thousand gazes by looking at me. For a moment his smirk (his evil, horrible, disgusting smirk) falters, and he almost looks sorry. But that is just a dream. Because then he laughs. He laughs at me, outright, and not only do I escape Lorcan's grasp but Lorcan beats me to Scorpius and actually hits him.

I am so shocked by this, so utterly struck, because Lorcan is the type of guy who would sit with a careless smile on his face if someone shouted crude words at him and his family for days on end. But right now he's punching Scorpius Malfoy, and I couldn't be more thrilled.

Draco Malfoy, also just as shocked, suddenly comes to his senses and blows Lorcan backwards off his son with his wand. Scorpius's mother just watches with her eyes watering and hand over her mouth.

I help Lorcan up off the ground. I stare at him in his eyes, which are so full of fire and malice they almost mirror my own. And in a moment a pure spite, I kiss him, full on the mouth, in front of not only a thousand people but the Minister of Magic (Lorcan's father), Anna (Lorcan's girlfriend), and best of all, Scorpius.

I stop registering the kiss, though, when I hear Scorpius scream. I suppose he lunges for one of us, because I can hear scuffling. But I am just so happy to make him angry I kiss Lorcan deeper, until I hear the sound of the Minister's voice over the boisterous crowd.

"Ahem!" he says, loud enough that Lorcan and I break apart. I stare dazedly at the judges table. Scorpius, mouth practically foaming in rage, is being restrained, I see with glee, by his father. "Well, that was all rather exciting. I suppose it makes up for the fact that no one actually got to see the task take place, but I think we can all guess what happened, eh?"

The crowd laughs and cheers. I can tell Lorcan's father isn't happy about all the scuffling, especially since his son was involved, but I don't think anyone else suspects that. I have no idea what he thinks about Lorcan and I kissing, though. I'm slightly irritated at the laughing of the crowd. The anger I feel for Scorpius has only just been numbed, but it's still painfully there.

"Now then," he says. "While the judges make their final decisions, let me go over just what the point of this task was." The crowd goes deathly silent at this. I'm equally curious (and furious still). "According to ancient articles, Salazar Slytherin, prior to leaving Hogwart's forever, created the Chamber of Secrets, which held a basilisk within its walls, which aimed to purge the school of all muggle-born students. However most of us know that Harry Potter, in one of many of his heroic adventures, killed the basilisk in the Chamber. There was a snake present in the Forest tonight, and although it wasn't a basilisk, it held similar dangerous qualities. Looking it in the eyes didn't mean death, but it did mean the snake would turn upon the looker to attack. Now, the qualities Slytherin prized most in his students- aside from purity of blood, that is-" There was a resounding chuckle at this, "-were resourcefulness, determination, a certain disregard for the rules, cunning, and ambition. The goal tonight was to display all of those, of course, but also in the spirit of Slytherin betraying his fellow Founders by leaving a basilisk within Hogwart's, to betray your partner to the snake. Ah—it seems the judges have their scores!"

I feel numb when the judges hold up their cards. Although I'm not surprised, when I find that Scorpius came in first with a full 25 points, I have to bite my lip to keep from screaming in rage. He now has 61 points. But I came in second! I ask Lorcan about this, and he says he and Anna had to be rescued from the forest because Lorcan knew they wouldn't make it. He wouldn't say why he knew they wouldn't make it, though. I now have 61, the same as Scorpius, with my addition of 19 points this task. Lorcan and Anna didn't get very high scores, but I think I would rather have come in last than to be this furious at Scorpius. Furiousness that is now slowly ebbing away into a deep sense of betrayal and sadness. Anna now has 55, Lorcan 57. I look over at Anna to see what she thinks about this; she is bright red and looks furious. Oddly, this improves my mood.

Until I see Scorpius looking at me out the corner of my eye. I reluctantly turn my head to look at him, my anger erupting into hot flowing lava, and his smile making him look like the devil himself. Then he mouths two words to me that I will never, ever, ever forget:

"I won."

We may be tied for first place in this competition, but he's won something much bigger in my opinion. He won my trust, my love, and my devotion. He won me. And I fell for every trick and word up until tonight. I fell for it and lost, and even though I should be angrier than ever, I can feel the tears coming that I had willed not to come at all. I needed to prove to myself that I was strong, because I had been so weak this year. But who was I to pretend that I could be strong in the most heart wrenching situation on my life?

I turn away from the horrible, searching faces of the crowd. I turn away from the world with numbness unlike any other I have ever felt. The blood on my hands and body is beginning to burn, but I make no steps towards the castle. This pain feels like the best pain I've felt so far. I love Lorcan so much right now, and I hate Scorpius equally as much. But I can't feel anything besides physical pain and emotional numbness. It's all I ever want to feel again.

I wander into the empty miles in the world before dusk, and I can't help not feeling anything at all.

XX

At some point, in between wandering and waking, I feel proud. I feel proud for the way I have responded to this. Most of my actions have always been instinctual, without thought, and often careless enough that I regret it later. But I regret nothing now. I did not sit and cry and wait for death to take me in its numbing hands. I fought with unrestrained rage, and I proved to myself that I am not a weakling. I am not weak at all.

So, it is to say that pride is the emotion that is now trailing along behind a hatred so horrible I cannot even contain it.

XX

I feel sick after I go to my room. Or, Lorcan's room, I should say, because I can't bear to ever come into contact with Scorpius again. I'm so unstable at this point I don't know if I'll kill him with my bare hands, or if I'll break down in front of him to beg and cry.

It's one of the longest hours of my life. Thankfully, a distraction comes in the form of Lorcan, smiling sadly and excitedly while locking the door behind him. And that's all he is, in that moment: a distraction. I ignore the fact that he is my friend, and was once my soul mate. I have no soul anymore. It just proves it when an hour of kissing and groping lead to one confession.

"Rose," Lorcan begins, his voice calm yet eerily cautious. "I love you, more than you can ever know. All these years, ever since I was old enough to notice how beautiful you were, I was in love with you. It killed me to know you just loved me as a friend. And when you wanted Scorpius instead…. Just please promise me that won't ever happen again."

Those were the hardest words I ever heard. I look at him through cloudy eyes, my heart a tornado of guilt, my mind a pit of lies…. He looks so much like Scorpius. I love him.

"I love you," I say.

I burst into tears, and I can only hope that Lorcan doesn't know that they are tears of shame.

"I know today has been hard on you," Lorcan says. He kisses my forehead and pulls me closer. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Through sobs, it all comes out. I tell him everything, and not just about the forest. I tell him of the lies Scorpius fed me, how he pretended to love me, and how I fell so hard and deeply in love with him. I tell him about the forest, and how he kept me running, trying to keep me from seeing the truth. And how… how he left me in the forest for the snake. At this point, my words are not so much words but the very confessions of a dying heart.

I hate Scorpius. I hate him more than all of Hell.

But I think, in the early hours of sleep, that I might just hate myself more for what I'm doing to Lorcan.

XX


	25. Chapter 25

**I'm a lazy excuse for an author. And a busy one. But the more reviews I get, the quicker I'll update! And thank you to Abby, my wonderful editor, and the other three that went along for the ride!**

XX

It's only two days after the third task, and already I have fallen into a web of lies that not only I am weaving, but others are around me. My relationship with Lorcan is public and wide open for discussion. People leave their remarks about us, telling what a cute couple we make, and how they can see how we're in love. These words make Lorcan happier than I've ever seen him. But with each word, I am torn to pieces.

Pamela and Caroline only make it worse for me. They know I'm still obsessed with Scorpius. I myself know this, because I can't help but glare fire at him every second I have the chance, as well as curse him (to his face), slap him (only once), and (almost) break down in front of him. My mind is wrapped around Scorpius Malfoy, even though the wrapping is no longer red hearts but a thousand deaths instead. I feel an intense shame every time I realize that I am, in fact, using Lorcan to get my mind away from the danger and hate Scorpius presents. Pamela and Caroline look at me knowingly all day, succeeding in making me feel even worse. They won't even talk to me anymore.

As for Lorcan himself…. Well, imagine loving an inanimate object. Or, for that matter, imagine being an inanimate object, with a living and beating heart, trapped inside a body that won't move or feel the way you wish it would. That's me with Lorcan. I am trapped inside a shell of hatred for Scorpius. It's an obsession I can't quit. Hating him, loving him…. One of them has always consumed my life. Trying to distract myself and ignore it has been like trying to ignore a bird pecking at your skull.

I will myself to respond to it when Lorcan touches me. I'm ashamed to say that I often pretend it is Scorpius kissing me rather than Lorcan. I respond to his lips with a mechanical action, feeling their moistness, thinking about their movement. But there are no butterflies in my stomach, no fire in my heart like there was with Scorpius. All I feel is what I've always felt with Lorcan: skin. Just skin. Nothing special about it.

My friends are ignoring me, the public is expecting love from me, and my boyfriend is in love with a porcelain doll trapped beneath hatred. It can only go downhill from here.

In Lorcan's room, I think about Scorpius, as I always do. Tonight I am alone, however, and am grateful for the opportunity to just sit and think.

For the first time, I think about how truly stupid I've been. But I thought we were in love. I thought, after every kiss and caress, it was bound to be real. There was no questioning it. The looks we shared, the looks that spelled every letter of love and desire, were so real they give me chills just thinking about it. Even now, when rage is taking over rapidly, I can still remember the moments when there was nothing but pure infatuation.

But how could I have been so stupid? So oblivious to his ulterior intentions? I had learned a long time ago that Scorpius is an amazing liar; how could I have forgotten?

The painful truth was simple: I really am in love with him. All that lying had me convinced, and now that I've come stumbling back into reality, I am spinning. I feel drunk. My head is fuzzy with emotions: hatred, desire, regret, confusion. It's all so very confusing.

I am exceptionally grateful that my parents (as far as I knew at this point) had no idea about our relationship. If they had known then I would be under lock and key…. They might be able to get over the fact that Scorpius was dating me, but would never let my heart be out in the open again once he had broken it.

And it is very, very broken.

I will myself to get off the topic of Scorpius. It does me no good to think about how much I hate him, unless I can punch him in the face for it. I remember that I forgot to practice the _Bestiaverto_ spell. In fact, I haven't even thought about the Transfiguration assignment since the day it was told to us. I hastily pick up my wand, muttering the incantation a few times, and then press the wand to my chest.

"Bestiaverto," I mutter.

It doesn't work. Most of my friends who have tried the spell said that nothing worked for them at all. But Lanie Manscot did say she felt a twinge of something when she thought about how much she loved her boyfriend.

But my mind is anywhere but on love. I can't concentrate. How could he have not felt anything this whole time? He had to have felt something that I felt; enthusiastic, at the very least. Even if that was all he felt….I felt everything in the moments with him. Even before that night in the forest, when I wasn't sure what to trust, I found myself falling for him anyways... We barely touched, barely kissed, barely even spoke. When we finally found each other, how could he not have felt the flavor, the incredible passion in that one kiss, that one moment?

It was love. But it wasn't real.

"Bestiaverto." Again, nothing.

And now…. Now, all I feel for him is hatred. While the fire between us had flared temporarily up to passion, it is now burned to loathing. And this is the way it should be, right? There was no question of the passion between us before….. But now, now that everything is back to normal, we can hate each other once more.

"Be-bestiaverto," I choke.

No. This intense loathing is nothing close to normal. It isn't the kind of fire you can step quickly into, burned and scorched as you may get, you will always come out mostly unscathed. But the hatred between us is scarring me…. Am I the only one who is being scarred between us? Maybe he just doesn't care about any of it.

My throat seizes in pain. I choke back my tears, muttering the spell in choking gasps. Scorpius is not as cold as that. He wouldn't ever, he couldn't ever, pretend that everything is back to normal now. Everything is so far from normal. Even he cannot deny it.

"Bestiaverto!" I yell. Rage is coursing through my veins like liquid poison. Oh, it hurts so much to feel so much hate after months of love and laughter. It feels foreign in my body. I can't quite understand how one person can cause so much to fly through me at once…. But, then again, it is Scorpius. Just the thought of him pumps desire into my body, now blending oddly with the hatred.

It's sweet and bitter all at once. I am compressed in my thoughts, in the tight space of nothingness where these two emotions reside, bouncing off each other, feeding each other. There is no escaping my desire, my love for Scorpius Malfoy. But nothing can stop this hatred.

And suddenly, I am flooded with these two emotions. Tears run freely down my face. I turn and choke, trying to focus on something other than my thoughts.

"BESTIAVERTO!" I scream.

Why am I still attempting something that will never work? Just as I'm about to curse Professor Haas for setting this impossible project, I drop down to my knees.

The pain I feel is immeasurable. It overpowers any emotion left in my body, flushing them out with one drawn out scream. I watch my hand as my fingers turn to sharp claws. I feel my back legs rising forcefully off the ground, my arms both lengthening and hardening before me. Everything I feel and know is dulled and sharpened at the same time. I cannot think clearly about myself. I cannot remember any feeling of love or passion. Just instinct. And my instinct is telling me that there is a mouse under my bed, one in the wall, and Lorcan close and climbing quickly up the stairs to the Ravenclaw common with the lingering scent of soap and roses on his body. Maybe it's the magic that makes me so alert….or maybe this is purely animal.

I lunge onto Lorcan's blue and silver bed, marveling at how easily I leave the ground. I land lightly, turning my body to face the mirror that hangs above the dresser. If I could, I would gasp. Instead I just growl.

So much for a small and sly fox.

I am a large and powerful tiger. While I know I should be orange in color, as I have seen pictures of tigers in books before, I am instead a shimmering auburn. I can barely make out my ink black stripes on my muscular back. My paws, which are about the size of my human head, are long clawed and sharp. I can only imagine swiping at someone with one of these. Out of everything on my magnificent body, my eyes are the most outstanding. They contrast so incredibly blue against the red and black of my body, they look like marbles.

It's a weird feeling, being an animal. While I don't really know where I'm going until I begin moving, I know I cannot do anything wrong. Instinct and intuition leads me on a leash towards the common room door. I run as fast as I can down the halls, towards the Head Dorm, and am there in a surprisingly short amount of time. The Hag yelps and opens for me with a fearful look; hopefully, she won't be alerting anyone. I leap into the portrait hole and look around, but I can already tell who is here. It smells like my human spicy scent, and Scorpius's sugary one, and sure enough, there is Scorpius sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.

I want a moment to test out my claws and teeth. I want to see what it feels like to have life clutched in my jaws, to have blood gush down my teeth and neck. My human conscious is wide awake, though, and tells me to turn around. I leave without a noise and bound back to the Ravenclaw common room. Lorcan is the only one there, and he is just climbing the stairs to his room. I can't see anything, but I can smell someone else: Albus. He's by the fire, talking to Lorcan in words I hear acutely but are hard to register consciously.

I would probably give them a heart attack if I bounded up behind them. Instead, I just growl lowly, and both of their heads snap around.

I cannot control what happens next. When Albus meets my eyes for the first time in weeks, without warning, I pounce onto him, pinning his body to the ground. I must be crushing him; I have to weigh at least four hundred pounds. The surprise is eminent in his face; so is the fear.

I feel a mixture of things here, in this stance. One of them is predatory. Like a sort of dominance that I must maintain, or a kind of predatory instinct that floods through my veins that almost feels similar to anger. The other is the sort of emotion I have felt for Albus all my life: friendship. Instead of the attack I'm sure would come from any normal animal, I lightly bat him on the shoulder and move off of him. Had I been human, I would have been mad at him for not talking to me. But now I just feel playful.

"Rose?" Albus laughs, rolling his shoulder. He'll be sore in the morning, I think.

I growl lowly. He laughs brightly, and Lorcan comes bounding down the stairs. "Rose!" he says. "How did you do that?"

I poke Albus's wand with my nose, and give the angriest look I can muster, while growling. Lorcan and Albus both take a step back. My growl turns into a chortle.

"What's she saying?" Albus asks.

"You have to get angry to turn into an animal." I nod and Lorcan smiles.

Albus excitedly picks up his wand and closes his eyes. Lorcan and I both watch as Albus contorts his face into anger. I'm almost scared when he mutters the spell. But sure enough, there is a cry and then a sort of grunt, and suddenly Albus is before me, antlers and all. I should have known Albus would be his grandfather's animangus: a tall and handsome buck.

Lorcan's next. He picks up his wand and just stares at it for a moment. I don't think it's possible for Lorcan to get angry. But that day after the task proved me wrong….. And once again, I see his face contort in pure, savage rage, and he angrily flicks his wand at himself and transforms into a small, sandy colored jack rabbit.

Apparently, Albus has not forgotten when I pounced on him. The force at which he knocks me over would kill me if I was not currently a four hundred pound tiger. It takes me moments to react to his move, and when I do, it is not a conscious thought. Instead, I bite his neck on instinct, rolling my weight so he is thrown off of me.

I leap after him.

He lands with shocking agility. We both face each other in the fire lit common room, circling and judging each other with low growls and long gazes. I cannot look away. He is glorious, and I sure I am as well. In the firelight his brown fur turns almost golden. His eyes reflect the golden flames; out of all the Potter children, he got the most beautiful eyes.

We lunge for each other at the same time. We swipe at each other with enormous paws and pointed antlers, but never inflicting real damage. We are both evenly matched: I have sheer strength, while he has speed. We manage to block everything that the other gives out. Something like super powered adrenaline is pumping in my blood.

Lorcan watches from the side, and while he's unable to fight, he twitches his whiskers happily at our play. We continue to battle for a good hour. Near the end of it, we are both so exhausted we can barely stand, and have several long scratches along out furry bodies. We lie on the hearth rug, panting, staring each other down while wishing we were able to fight. Right now, I feel like I want to rip his throat out with my two-inch teeth.

I cannot get over his beauty. Even if my animal mind can't truly comprehend splendor, I know it can sense a threat. Almost that this creature before me is better than I am. He looks that way. His fur glistens with light and it takes little for me to become hypnotized. It's so lovely, so exquisite, I cannot tear my eyes away. Lorcan sits on a pillow watching our stare down. Soon my eyes begin to droop in tiredness. I fall slowly into what I can only call a cat slumber.

XX


	26. Chapter 26

XX

When I wake in the morning, I am immediately aware of everything around me. I know I'm a tiger. I know there is a large buck across from me, and I growl at it before I realize he's asleep. I know that the sun is up and shining, and that I am very, very late for my first lesson.

And so is Al.

I get up and automatically stretch. It feels good. I paw at Albus's and Lorcan's bodies, watching as they snap awake and are immediately alert. I would smile at him if I were human…. But even if I could move my animal lips in that way, I don't think instinct would let me. To my animal mind, he is even more of a threat than last night. My instincts seemed to have sharpened.

We all look at each other in what can only be a knowing look. We have to get to class. And we are still animals. If I'm correct, our first lesson is Transfiguration, and that is exactly where we need to be if we ever want to return to our original forms.

Without grabbing our bags, we trot out of the room, light on our feet and quickly moving through the corridors. Thankfully, no one is out in the halls, so the first lesson must have already begun. We arrive, side by side, in front of the Transfiguration classroom. I dread the moment when Professor Haas sees us in this condition.

Albus doesn't seem to be thinking the same thing, however, because he immediately paws at the door. It makes a soft thud and I immediately know it's not enough to be heard. I look at him in question, and he gives what I think is a nod. He looks almost….excited. Quite opposite of me, he seems to want everyone to see him in his glorious form. I roar loudly at the door, and feet come running almost immediately. Lorcan still sits, twitching his whiskers happily behind us.

"What in the world is-?"

Professor Haas opens the door with an annoyed look on her face. It takes about two seconds for that look to turn to insane laughter. She is practically rolling on the floor in hysterics by the time she looks up at us. I am not exactly sure this is what I wanted to happen.

"Rose?" she says, still giggling. "Albus? Lorcan?"

How did she recognize us, I wonder? She said our animal form would have distinguishing characteristics….or maybe we're just the only ones absent from class. We all nod our heads, which renews her laughter. She signals for us to come in the class, which I immediately regret, as every single person gasps dramatically as we enter. Albus is living in the attention.

"Students!" calls the Professor, smiling widely. "This is a model example of a perfect transfiguration spell. While I told no one to attempt it, I can't pass up the chance to show the effects of the spell. And Rose, Lorcan and Albus have given me three perfect examples!"

Everyone sits in shock. I look at Caroline's sullen face and Pamela's silent laughing one. Surely they didn't expect their best friend to turn into a tiger? I myself thought I would be a fox.

For the rest of the period, the class studies the effect of the spell. They point out the significant human markings, such as my red fur coat and Albus's green eyes and Lorcan's dirty blonde hair. A few things I didn't notice before, such as stripes in the shape of a scar on my human back (which only Al knows about, and makes a point of pointing out) and the very rich coat on Albus; his human hair is very, very thick as well. And Lorcan's eyes…. It's something I can't even describe. He has golden eyes, not his usual blue ones, but there are dots of cool blue in all different places, like my gold freckles on my human eyes. I can't help but admire it all….. If I could have chosen exactly what to turn into, a magnificent tiger would be one of the top. Some students come up and touch us, pointing out certain things on our bodies, which I find slightly irritating. Albus, on the contrary, seems to love the attention. He bounds around the room like Professor Haas did in our first lesson, swiping playfully at people and showing off his lean muscles. Lorcan and I just sit and watch, my tail twitching in aggravation.

And there is Scorpius. He, despite the exciting lesson, seems to pull off a look that looks almost bored. He glances up every so often to see me watching him closely. If he turned into an animal, what would his be? He decided on a wolf, but I beg to differ. I can imagine him…lean muscles rippling under white-blonde fur, blue eyes shimmering, teeth pointed and ready to tear me apart….

In my animal mind, all I can think of is what a threat he would be. I can tell he won't transform into something weak. If there is a slight chance that I will see him as an animal, I want to be ready to fight. This is all I can think of. Because surely, a fight will come, even though my human anger for him is all but forgotten.

And he ignores this fact. He ignores it all, and it infuriates me.

Just as I begin to believe things could not get worse, Professor Haas suggests Albus and I fight. As if we haven't already. She says it's just to demonstrate the changes that the spell has, adding strength and stamina that would normally not be there, but I'm sure she's just having fun with us. Or punishing us. Whichever it is, I never find out, because Albus and I immediately launch into battle.

We toss and turn and knock over several desks. I find myself purposely leading the fight towards the back of the room, where Scorpius is currently sitting, hoping to scratch him in the process and call it an accident. But I never get that far, as Al is determined to keep the fight in the center of attention. I feel giddy with excitement, despite my annoyance. It seems when I know a battle is just for fun, the animal in me gets excited rather than offensive. We don't really harm each other, but by the end of the class, I am exhausted.

"Let's give a round of applause to Rose and Al!" calls the Professor. A hearty applause fills the class. This has to have been the most exciting lesson so far. If only I could be a student instead of a piece in the thrill.

The bell rings and students file out, talking animatedly about the lesson. By the end of the day, I'm sure the whole school will know about the exciting events. Professor Haas gives us her thanks, but we just stare at her. We need the spell to get out of this. Surely she knows that.

"Oh!" she says, as if she's just noticed. "Did you not look at the counter spell before you practiced?"

I'm about to growl in exasperation, but the Professor whips out her wand so fast I don't have time. Before I know it, I am on my feet, back in my human form with a disheveled Albus and Lorcan beside me.

"Well, next time you attempt it, the spell's _humanuverto_." She gives us a smile and waves us out.

I glance at Al, who has the widest grin I've ever seen, and I manage to grin back before he waves goodbye and rushes back to tell his friends about it all. As if they don't already know. I wave at the Professor one last time and turn to leave with Lorcan.

But there is an obstacle in my way. Because there is Scorpius, leaning on the desk, looking at me with too many emotions to count swimming in his eyes.

I feel almost deaf compared to the incredible hearing I had as an animal, where every pin drop of sound came to my ears like liquid sound. I can smell only bland, uninteresting air around me, with really no scent in the air that can compare to what I just had. And while my vision remains mostly unchanged, the variations in lighting seem oddly dull, as if the spectrum of light is not quite complete. But now that I am finally back to my original self, my emotions come back to me, fast and painful as a bludger hitting me in the stomach at full speed.

I look over at Scorpius right as he looks at me. Rage. Hatred. Fury. Wrath. Every word that can describe the hate I feel, all the horrible things in the world, everything mixed into one horrible fire. All of these emotions fall into the fire and light it in a moment. Every emotion that was dulled in my animal state, and it's beyond painful to feel it all, everything that five minutes ago I thought had gone and dulled for good…. There is no more ignoring the fact that I hate him for what he has done to me. And there is only one thing that makes me feel anger so acute it is physically painful; the look in his eyes.

I can see the words written in his eyes: "I won."

And I know for sure that, while he may believe everything is back to normal as he turns away, I know that nothing can ever be the same now. I hate him too much. For the first time in my entire life knowing Scorpius, I feel that my hatred for him is beyond just a mutual dislike. Before, things had always been easy, with the hope of friendship between us, but the need for a sort of passion to keep us from…I don't know. Something. But now that all the passion, be it hatred or love, has gone, I feel nothing but the purest, unadorned loathing. And this time…. This time I have a true reason to hate him more than anything on this Earth.

But these emotions are indistinguishable. They are violent, furious things. They rush in and out like lighting and leave a long echo of different things that I can never hear. Even the words I say now are confusing. You cannot understand any of it. You could not possibly know what I know, what I want. This hatred has no outlet, none at all, and forever it has been the easiest way to burn away this passion. But now the fire is growing, growing, growing ever larger, ever stronger with each glance between us.

It has only been three days, yet my world has changed irrevocably.

XX

That night in the Ravenclaw common room with Lorcan and Albus, it seems my show as an animal has put people in higher hopes for me winning the Championship. For the first time since the tournament has begun, everyone congratulates me on my coming in second place (and almost killing Scorpius after). They ask me what happened in the forest, about what Scorpius did as my partner, and I told them most of the truth. "We didn't really talk much. But when we saw the snake, he convinced me we had to work together. I did that, stupidly, and he betrayed me." I didn't let the emotion show in my voice when I told everyone this. And after everyone was done adoring me and asking questions about what it was like to be an animal, I return to my dorm and ignore my homework. I get out my wand, rush up to the bathroom, transform into a golden tiger once more and leap into my rose-and-vanilla scented bath. Even as a cat, swimming feels like nothing else.

After I get out and shake myself dry, I sniff the air. Scorpius is gone, and I have a feeling he won't be back for a while. As if by some mysterious force, I find myself padding my way up to Scorpius's bedroom, sniffing the air for some sign of…. Something. Coming into his room, I am overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia, as if it was a year ago when I was in this room, in his bed, with him always by my side. How could it have been only three days when everything was the way it should be? And now….. I'm glad to be a tiger. My emotions are dull. All I really feel is hunger, and hunger for what I don't know.

That's when I see the letters. They are stacked neatly on his silver wood dresser. All are of the purest white, the finest parchment, and I can smell the expensive ink on them. I mutter the _humaniverto_ spell in my head and change back into Rose. I am so curious as to what the letters hold I barely even register the change.

I open the one on top. Inside, I find a short letter, barely a paragraph, from Scorpius's father.

_Scorpius,_

_Remember your mission. I know you, Scorpius. You may be pretending well, but you have emotions for her that are beyond a simple façade. When the time comes, you must leave her._

_With regards,_

_Your father_

My insides go numb. I place the letter down and pick up the next, with shaky hands.

_Scorpius,_

_I have a plan for you. You will walk into the snake's lair with her, but you must not let her look. She will see the path ahead clearly, and if she runs for it, she will get attacked and the snake will not let you leave. You must keep her distracted, somehow, until the snake has you in its clutches. No matter what, do not look it in the eyes. It is your mission to make her look it in the eyes, and only then will it let go of you and go for her. If you are in danger, I have a feeling she will do whatever you say. Leave as soon as you can afterwards. The less time you linger, the less danger you will be in. The entire forest will be magically enhanced, so its beauty becomes so distracting that it will become a danger. I expect you to keep a level head through all of this…. Especially with her. _

_With regards,_

_Your father_

I should have known. I should have always suspected that Scorpius would have outside help from his father. His lying, cheating, evil bastard of a father. Scorpius could have come up with the entire plan himself, I'm sure, but his father had to tell him everything about what was going on. Everything…. Everything, I'm sure, I could have guessed. But now it's passed, and I was dumb, so dumb….

The next letter describes how Draco Malfoy found out about the task. He worked personally with the Ministry in creating a custom snake to resemble a basilisk, yet not be as deadly. He tells Scorpius he will have a plan in his next letter, but for now, he should keep me even closer.

I glance at the very first letter in the stack. It details…. Oh, Merlin, it details exactly what Scorpius must do to win me over. Everything he's done, everything that has had me falling for him, is the work of his father. I choke and can't finish the letter. I put them all back in the stack and run, as fast as I ever have before, into my room. I cry into my pillow, too numb to feel really anything. I suppose it's better that it was all his father's idea; after all, I would do anything for my parents' approval as well. But it hurts more than anything in the world to still know it was all pretend, all false, due to one man.

I remember when he told me that his parents both knew about us. I remember the feeling of fear, a horrible feeling of something like disgrace spreading through my body like poison, afraid that my parents would find out and hate me for it. I wanted, like Draco Malfoy said, my parent's approval for everything. But then I said to Scorpius that I didn't care. That I loved him, and would always love him, because he was more important to me than what my parents thought.

But he would lie, cheat, and pretend with me all because his dad said so.

He would never truly love me.

I sleep as a tiger that night, curled up on my bed, loving that I can no longer feel the emotions I hate so much. I dread the moment I have to wake up and face them again.

In my dreams it hits me. That look in his eyes as he tells me, "They know." There was hope in his gaze. In all the letters from his father, there was no plan to tell me those words. They were not made to make me falter in anything. They were not said to manipulate me even more. When I responded with love and loyalty, Scorpius realized something I myself did not even know at the time: I love him, more than my parents, more than success. And he was shocked by that, that my love was true. It was his way of seeing if I still believed in the game.

I loved him.

I love him…..

But my fury ignites, and I roar a horrible noise until the silver moon cries out in agony.

XX

**Review, review, review! Joelle8, I love you dear! Thank you for being fabulous.**


	27. Chapter 27

XX

Over the four day weekend, the routine of transforming into my animal self as soon as I'm alone becomes permanent. It's amazing to be able to forget everything for a few hours, wrapped in blissful existence, able to fall into light slumber as soon as I close my eyes. Luxurious baths feel twice as good as a tiger. With enhanced senses, I can smell every inch of scents that aren't even in the bath, hear the bubbles crackle and burst under the water, and even hold my breath longer than usual.

But however I try, I cannot escape the memory of the letters from Scorpius's father. It sickens me even more that while I was willing to put him above everything, Scorpius cares more about winning than even I do. There hasn't been a word or a glance shared between us (although I'm sure he could hear me crying in my room at night), but I know all he ever thinks about is how he won. While I figure I will be doomed to accept it, I try to keep emotions bottled up while I'm around anyone. When I'm anywhere at all, in fact, the emotions are not. I refuse to let them ruin anything at this point; if I don't win this last task, I will not win at all. And Scorpius, I think as I shiver horribly, will be my partner.

The looming prospect of winning it all seems to hit me at random intervals. Even now, as a tiger and under the blissful world of water and ignorance, the chance I might lose sparks fear in me that I don't want to acknowledge. If I do win, it will mean everything for me. Even if I fail forevermore, I will at least have been a winner once in my life. If I lose now….. The thought scares me.

The bubbles feel warm and inviting as I swim among them. They lock under my fur, crawling along my skin, reaching for the surface with desperate glossy fingers. I close my eyes and imagine them. They are glorious little things, dying things, craving things. If they do not reach the rainbow colored surface, they will pop. They will never be glistening and glorious again.

These bubbles, leeched to my fur and mind, will never be amazing unless they reach the top right now. But what will they be when they reach the top?

I imagine them climbing, letting go of my fur, risking the ride to the top. They do not pop. They do not stop. They explode to the surface, gasping the breath they needed so desperately, and float into the air. They are invisible now. But they accomplished something, right? They won the air, and this is what they needed to feel accomplished.

If I win, I will feel carefree and lovely, just like these bubbles. I am sure of this.

I rise with the bubbles and inhale their air. It tastes crisp and clean with soapy bubbles. Just because being an animal doesn't dissolve every thought, I wish I was one of these bubbles. Where struggle and success come so simply; losing or winning is one or the other, with nothing in between. Right now, I am feeling everything in dull throbs that are neither one nor the other.

I shake my fur dry and pad down the slick steps. The fire is glowing with embers in the hearth, but other than that everything else is dark. It smells like roses in here, as it usually does. I probably use too much bath soap and take too many baths. Scorpius is up in his room, and I can hear his shallow breaths, as if he's having a nightmare. Serves him right.

I walk over to the front of the fire, where the ground is still warm. This would be a perfect place to take a small nap. On weekends this is my favorite thing to do; take so many cat naps that I don't have to sleep at night. It gives me more time to do what I want during the day with my friends or homework. I haven't seen Scorpius this entire weekend, actually. The last time I saw him was the night I found the letters. Sure, I am aware of him being in the room…. Actually, the only room he's been in this entire weekend was his bedroom. I'm not sure why that bothers me, but it does. Ever since I started being a tiger, all I could feel was his shallow breathing in his bedroom…

This bothers me. If he really doesn't want to see me and just wants to stay locked up in his room, fine, but with all the prowling around I've been doing lately I would have at least come across him in the hallways. And, despite my anger at him, I am worried.

I tell myself I am just being a good person. But I can't even lie to myself as a tiger.

I get up off my warm spot on the rug and jump up his stairs. It takes me three leaps to get to the top, and I have gained so much momentum that I cannot stop myself when I get to his door. Luckily, it's open, and I burst into the room with a light bang from my collision with the door. My heart is racing in what I can only describe as adrenaline. I suppose this is because I am worried for what I will find. There is no other explanation, because all I can feel right now is my heated veins and beating heart.

Clothes and items are strewn around just about everywhere, and dressers and wooden items are broken. In places, marble is cracked along the wall, which had to have taken a hard hit to crack so much. It looks as if someone fought in here. If I wasn't an animal, I wouldn't have noticed the layer of grime on most of the places in the room, as if it had been a while since it'd been clean, or the white fur on the bed and all over the rug. But I am an animal, and I notice all of this. And there is another animal lying on the silvery bed, now looking at me with an indescribable emotion in its cold blue eyes. It is a gorgeous white tiger.

Blood looks so wrong against it.

XX

The red color looks completely out of place in the pale silver and green of the room. This is the only thing I can register as I watch the blood drip from different places all along his body. What kind of person would put red in a room of silver? It looks so wrong and bright against such pale things. All I can think of is this blood, how it does not belong, and how…. Oh, wow. It smells incredible.

I move forward when the scent hits me. It smells amazing. It's full and harsh, as if I could taste an entire body in just one whiff, yet sharp and metallic at the same time. The combination is so intoxicating I nearly fall forward.

Or I would have fallen forward, had I been human. But must I keep reminding myself? I am an animal right now. And right now, all I can do is think of how amazing this helpless tiger will taste.

I leap forward so far I didn't even know I could do it until now. I retain no emotion, no thought, only instinct. It is instinct that moves me on top of the white animal, and it is instinct that makes me sink my teeth into his neck. There is a roar of outrage from beneath me, a slight struggle, then silence. Instinct doesn't allow me to let go until I am sure the creature is dead.

When I know it's dead, I lift my head and watch it for a moment. A tiger. White. Large. Blue eyes. Absolutely stunning.

And blood that smells like nothing else. It smells like a meal.

Between us, though, it smells like hatred.

Suddenly, everything goes black.

When you know something is wrong, you will figure it out. When you know what you're doing is not right, you will almost always stop. When you register the feelings of guilt, of greed, of gluttony, you will know where they will lead you. But what happens when those feelings are lost? When you are not aware that something is wrong? If you choose to ignore that feeling, you can always go back. I lost myself forever in that one moment, not having a choice. That thing that took over wasn't wrong. I was wrong to trust it. And I suppose, in that sense, it was all my fault.

Unfortunately, all of that was lost in a matter of moments.

XX

I wake up to find my vision blurred. I close my eyes again. My senses are dull, so I must be a human again. I can't remember changing back. Actually, I can't remember much at all. All I remember is falling asleep on the rug in front of the fire. Now I'm here, and I know for a fact that I am not in my golden bed.

"Rose?" comes a voice. "Rose, please wake up."

I am awake. I open my eyes slowly, waiting for the hovering face to come into focus. Once it does, I release the tension I didn't know I had. It's Caroline.

"Hi," I croak. There's a little wobble in the air, like a balloon burst, and then it all happens at once.

Caroline falls onto me in what I think is a dead faint, but she begins to cry and sob into my stomach. Just as suddenly, the door bursts open and my mother and father come storming in, followed by just about everyone of my friends and family who attend Hogwarts. And just as I think it couldn't possibly get any more crowded, Professor Haas comes storming in without a trace of laughter on her face, followed by McGonagall and Neville.

I must have gotten hurt, I think suddenly.

And this is the only thought that crosses my mind before everyone reaches my bed, yet not one word reaches my ear.

"What's going on?" I ask, my voice still hoarse. "I just woke up."

There is a silence that is so unusual in the people I know, a shiver runs up my spine despite the warmth in my bed. What could possibly be so wrong that everyone is here? I feel fine.

"Rose." It is Professor McGonagall who breaks the silence. "Were you in your animal form for more than a day?"

This question is so unexpected, so sudden, I just stare at the Professor's sullen face for a minute. Since nothing can come from lying, I say the truth. "Yes."

I know the room will explode from the tension. Everyone is holding their breath in anticipation for something I know nothing about. So many questions flood my mind. Their piercing looks are scaring me. If they are so afraid, so saddened, for something that happened to me, I will end up in the worst condition out of all of them. I wish, if only for a moment, I could return to the blissful ignorance of animal emotions.

"Rose….," she begins. But for once, Professor McGonagall has no words. Her eyes leave mine and glide slowly over to the bed next to mine. I turn and follow them.

As I turn, I taste copper blood in my mouth. It feels wrong there. Just like this moment feels wrong.

But nothing is wrong compared to the image I see. It's shouldn't even be considered an image, it is so grotesque. The once creamy white fur of the animal is now dark red in color, stained with crimson blood, almost like me in my animal form. While the wounds that produced the blood are healed, the scars still remain, eerily visible against the red backdrop. The animal's head is oddly placed to one side, as if carelessly examined and thrown aside for later. The whole image mixes oddly with the blood in my mouth. Almost as if I can taste the blood on the animal next to me.

I watch as it breathes deeply, and realize why its head is so oddly placed. As the breath releases, a slow trickle of warm blood oozes from the corner of its mouth, falling slowly down its neck. The next breath comes sharper, as if choking, and blood begins to flow everywhere, staining its mouth even more than before. It coughs and wheezes, spraying blood in droplets. I cannot watch. I cannot listen. I cannot believe this, this image that has not even fully registered in my mind, how horrible and sickening it is—

The animal opens its eyes when I move. They are an icy blue and are laced with fear. These are the eyes of Scorpius Malfoy.

"No!" I scream, but it doesn't make a sound. My airway is blocked with bile. I choke on it, vomiting into the bucket that has magically appeared in front of me. It stings and burns my throat with acid, but I am so relieved I could cry. I can no longer taste the blood that connects me to this animal….this person….that lies before me. Because, with shocking realization, it all makes sense.

I attacked him. I nearly killed him. And now I'm here, watching him suffer, and knowing that if he dies the last words I will have said to him were of hate.

Professor McGonagall must confirm it, though. It takes every ounce of my self control not to vomit or cry or even just close my senses to everything. I listen painfully to everyone throbbing word she utters. "When you stay in animal form for more than two days, traits that were before kept separately combine in a deadly way." She rushes her words. "Emotions become stronger, logic becomes weaker. Animal instinct takes over."

She looks from me to the bloody thing next to me. I cannot look anywhere at all. And then she begins to confirm what I already know.

"You attacked Scorpius, Rose. It wasn't intentional, but he is gravely injured. When the sense of disgust you felt towards him mixed with the instinct to kill, especially when presented with another animal, your mind ignored all logic and followed animal instinct."

"He will live, Rose." This time it's Professor Haas who speaks, and she sounds so sad and sullen I almost cry out for her. She, out of everyone, should be the one with the happy words. But even while her optimism is spoken, her words reek of grief.

Then they have not figured out what I have just discovered. I remember, now, seeing his tattered room covered in fur and items. I did not attack him once. I attacked him twice. The way he was injured when I attacked him last night….he was dying for a full day, two maybe. And then I attacked him again, not from hate, but instead from bloodlust.

"Who stopped me?" I whisper. It's not even a whisper. More of a thought.

"You did, Rosie." This time my mother speaks, and her voice is almost as quiet as mine. Everyone looks at her as if she's done something unspeakable. Her eyes are golden in the lamplight, her hair soft. I feel like crying out to her to be held.

"Why?" I ask. If I had a feast before me, I would assume I wouldn't stop. No animal would stop.

"You realized who you were killing."

Killing. The word sounds so wrong coming from the soft lips of my mother.

I can't ask the question. I don't want to know, I tell myself. But in truth, I want to know everything.

Professor McGonagall answers my unspoken words. "Albus went to go see you, and the portrait let him in without a password. It would know what had happened. He heard something in Scorpius's bedroom and went up to see, and found you there, in your animal form, panting. Scorpius was nearly dead on the bed, but you did not attack any further. You had stopped yourself. Albus called for help, and when I levitated Scorpius down to the hospital wing, you followed us. You only just changed back when you were sure he was safe in bed. It was very, very unusual for two-day animal behavior."

"I don't remember anything past seeing him in his bed. He was covered in—" I'm about to say 'blood', but that would tell them everything I don't want them to know- "feathers. He must have been ripping up pillows or something."

Professor Haas looks at me again. Everyone else has been hushed into silence once more. "When I got there, the place was a mess. You two had to have fought for hours."

"I guess I won in the end," I finish for her. Or….is it possible that Scorpius let me win?

I force myself to look over at him. His eyes are still open, unblinking, unflinching. They are locked on mine. They know. He knows that I have almost killed him, and I know he will never forgive me. There is no revenge in this scenario. He may have betrayed my trust and my love, but I know this is so far beyond simple revenge. I have put his life in danger. I nearly killed him. This is not righteous, and we both know that.

"He refuses to change himself back," the Professor continues. "I think he doesn't want to risk scarring himself even more."

He may have scars up and down his bloody body, but I have mental images burned into the back of my mind. His mangled body will forever be in my head. I will know that I almost killed a person…..

But Scorpius is not just a person to me. I must admit it now, even though I cannot ever admit it aloud. He is so much more than that. I was once in love with him, even if that love is now soaked in a sense of betrayal. A love like that cannot be completely concealed. It is so much more heated than the feeble layer of hate I feel for him.

That I love him, even in this state, hits me harder than any image today. It burns me and pulses through me like the blood bath beside me. He is my everything, my hate and devotion and passion and competitor, and if I lose him, I will lose it all. Maybe this competition means the world to me, but my world lies beside me, at risk of dying because of the risks I was willing to take to defeat him.

I am deaf to the world, even though the chatter has begun. It has begun. It has begun. Oh, how it has begun.

_Tonight, I will sob to the stars. I will quench this conflagration with tears of sorrow, because I want it to go away. There was once a familiar fire; it was unchanging, flickering, roaring, emitting passion and desire and love and lust and even loathing all at once. Now it practically screams indifference. The battle of a lifetime has come, and neither of us cares. I will cry for him. I would die for him. But he is not here now, and I fear he may never be here again. This coldness we once shared between us is ruined. This desire is torn with holes. This hatred is purely instinctual; I cannot help it, he cannot help it. There is nothing we can do about it. _

_But you see him lying there, right? Cold and alone and so very beautiful in the moonlight. I cannot help that I love him with every inch of my soul. I cannot help that I am prepared to lose every inch of my soul to make him love me. But the indifference, the hatred now, with both of us having a sure reason to hate the other, is unbreakable. It is a brick wall ten miles thick. _

_Our hatred is forever._


	28. Chapter 28

_Lying to ourselves____is more deeply ingrained than lying to others. _

_-Fyodor Dostoevski_

XX

One night, only a few days after the whole incident, my rescue comes in the form of Pamela.

"Rose?" she says, her voice at my door. I am restlessly awake, as I have been for so long, staring at the ceiling. It's almost midnight, but it's a weekend so there's no need to force myself to sleep. I let Pamela enter without saying anything, magically opening the door. I hope Scorpius was alone and sad in his room. I hope he's healing, too.

"Oh, honey," she says, like my mother used to when she found me sad and helpless. "Are you still upset about that task? Because, Rose, you're in first place right now! That's a great thing!"

She sits down by the side of my bed, her hand holding mine. I smile over at her. Her golden eyes shine happiness. It's hard to feel depressed around her.

"No, Pam," I say, sitting up. "I'm not upset about that anymore."

She looks at me closely. In some ways, I want to tell her exactly what happened with Scorpius and the tiger. She could maybe help me feel better. But I also have to remind myself the way _everyone _who found out, not just a few people, looked at me. Even Lorcan, who is normally immune to everything anyone does, looked at me with fear and shame in his eyes. No one wanted to know me, it seemed, because they didn't know who I was.

I look up at Pamela like an innocent child afraid of the world. "Pamela," I ask her, "who am I?"

She smiles as if she was expecting this question, which I'm sure she wasn't, because I didn't even anticipate it. "You're Rose Weasley, daughter of Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, two of the most famous people on the planet, talented witch-extraordinaire, and the girl who is no longer in love with the stupidest prat alive."

I smile, and I'm about to respond when I hear a voice from the doorway. "Sorry, Pamela, but I think you're wrong about most of that."

He steps from the shadow of my doorway and begins to speak, his gaze fierce and unflinching. "You are Rose Weasley, who cares nothing about fame or of names and bloodlines. At times you want to be great because your parents were, but you know deep inside that you want so much more than just to please them. You are Rose Weasley, the most talented, beautiful, intelligent witch in history. You are Rose, my Rose, and I will get down on my knees for the rest of eternity for you to always love me."

Pamela and I both exchange glances, surprised out of our minds, and in that fraction of a second it takes me to realize what my answer to that is, Lorcan is gone. Silence echoes through the greatness and beyond, stretching into the night, until finally Pamela says something.

"Rose, I came here to ask you something," she says. I nod blankly, still staring at the door. "When you kissed Lorcan after the task that night, what did you do it for?"

"Because he hurt Scorpius, and I wanted to rub salt in the wound." The words pour from my mouth with numb lips.

"Everyone saw it, Rose. They all think you're in love, and have been for a while…," she trails off, searching for words. "You're parents found out, and they're both ecstatic about it. They want you to love Lorcan, Rose. But do you?"

It comes as no surprise to me that my parents know, or for that matter, that they like the idea. I know my answer to Pamela's question. It's a answer that's hard to swallow, like forcing a rock down your throat. But I know my answer.

I ask Pamela to have a sleepover that night. We chat and laugh for a long time. I feel renewed with her company. It's been a long time since she's talked to me for this long.

When I finally settle for sleep, I can't help my thoughts when they wander over to Scorpius, and how my parent's jubilation would be less if it was him.

But what would my answer be if it were him?

I will tell you now that it is completely useless trying to describe what Scorpius said to me in the months that passed. Obviously, he said nothing at all, but that did not stop me from crying. I hated him _so much _for what he'd done to me, but he now had just as much of a right to hate me as well. Whenever he passed I could see the scars on him. His face, his hands, his neck. His neck especially, and there were many occasions when I caught it bleeding without notice. Everyone else noticed when the blood began flowing freely down his neck except him. When someone would point it out to him, he would _scourgify _it off, in a nonchalant manner, but I felt worse every time he did it. I was very, very grateful that no one in the school except for the teachers and Albus and Lorcan knew about it. I couldn't even bring myself to tell Caroline or Pamela. I was ashamed.

And Scorpius said nothing. Not a word, not a glance. It was so much worse than having hate fired at me all hours of the day. It was a silence so deep and indifferent I felt that if I dropped something into it, I would never hear the thing hit the bottom. It was endless, in a way. But in the same way it also brought an end to us.

Winning had torn us apart. Sure, it was mostly his fault, but it was my fault that I attacked him because I was mad at him for winning. It just proved that we had no true feelings for each other if we couldn't put the other above success. I told myself it was great that our charade was finally over. I could focus more on winning, more on my life rather than Scorpius. I tell myself it's a good thing.

But I can't stop the dreams.

They don't even have to be when I'm asleep even. They come and go as they please, images of Scorpius and I kissing, holding hands, and just acting like all the ridiculous couples do. Those are some of the more pleasant dreams. Others involve my death, his death, and the consequences of just about every imaginable scenario.

I am a mess.

But I had not forgotten about the passion I felt for Lorcan when I kissed him after the third task. I also had not forgotten the letter's my parents wrote to me, approving of Lorcan over and over. I grew a since of confidence and pride when I held hands with him. I especially felt great when I saw Scorpius watching us talk of secrets and love. I hope he is jealous and full of hatred, but at the same time I now wish nothing but healing on him.

XX

"In the middle of the night, when you lie awake dreaming, what do you wonder?" Lorcan asks. The heat of his skin presses lovingly against my bare flesh, the blankets thrown on the floor around us. The humid summer air was crawling in through the open balcony doors. The night was peaceful and warm, with no noise but the crickets in the trees and the breath of Lorcan, who had not left my side for almost two months.

"I think about my future," I answer. Our voices are loud in the night. With the increase in heat, our confidence grows in our voices, and at night we are no longer whispering but talking…. And in secret I hope Scorpius can hear us.

"What, about how successful you'll be once you leave Hogwarts?" Lorcan laughs. I smile despite the seriousness of my words.

"Did you really mean everything you said that night?" I ask. I feel the heat in his skin burn, and I know that it's a rare blush.

"I meant all of it," he says heatedly, bringing me closer. "You are gorgeous, Rose, and I'm not the only one who thinks so. Every boy in this school is struck by your beauty. And I don't even have to tell you how talented and smart you are. You inherited everything good about your parents, Rose. Pamela was right."

I smile and kiss his cheek. He moves his lips to mine, moving them quickly, and even after a month I still compare his kiss to Scorpius's. How his lips move, quicker and less easily than Scorpius, and with much less practice. I suppose I enjoy it more, in a way, because I know Lorcan is mine and has always been mine. But something in his words stir my memory, of his talk about my parents.

"What you said that night…," I say, and this time I whisper. "Lorcan, what did you mean?"

His lips move against my neck. "Your parents are wonderful people, Rose. But I know how pressured you feel to be like them. There are only so many times you can save the world. I remember all those nights when we would escape your house and lay under the stars by your pond. You would cry sometimes because you felt you weren't enough. But Rose, there are only so many times you can save the world.

His kisses deepened until they were my very heart and skin. But his words fell into the deepest chasm of my mind, locked there, and were forever locked away inside a dark room where my mind wanted nothing of.

_Saving the world…. I can never save the world. _

_ All I can do is save myself._

XX


	29. Chapter 29

**I'm so sorry for taking forever to update! Due to certain complications, this chapter could not be edited. Feel free to point out any mistakes, but it's unlikely I'll change them until my editor feels the need to. Thanks to all my reviewers. You're the only reason I update at all!**

**Happy reading. **

**XX**

The time flies by quicker than I ever wanted it to. After this task, the year will be over. I will leave for the Ministry after summer. And my future…my future will be in my own hands.

Two days before the task, I have a rare get together with my family. Lily, Albus, Lorcan, Roxanne, Fred, and Hugo are all with me in the Head common room. It's the only place we can have to ourselves, and I know for a fact that Scorpius is down in Hogsmade drinking himself silly. Every time I think of him, I feel both hate and shame. I haven't changed into a tiger yet, even when the entire class was requested to transform a week ago. But I have little time for sad thoughts now, with everyone crowded together by the fire, stuffing ourselves with food, and laughing about just about everything.

They are on the subject of Quiddtich currently, about how much they all miss it this year. Don't get me wrong, I love my family to death. But as I have absolutely no interest or talent in Quidditch, it gets incredibly dull when everyone starts talking about it. And _everyone _in my family plays Quidditch, and they talk about it _all the time._

"I still think this tournament thing was a nice change," Lily says, who isn't quite as obsessed as the rest. "At least all the 7th years get a nice farewell."

"Farewell?" Albus says. "Lily, you know I'm not actually _leaving. _I'll still be back in Hogwarts every day to keep those boys off of you."

Lily snorts loudly. "Boys? You mean the imaginary ones you make up to tell mom?"

"No," Fred chimes in. "He means the ones that have the tendency to sneak into your window at night."

Lily's jaw drops open in outrage. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard since Lorcan announced he'd seen a flying sarcadagus!"

"You can't deny the truth," Lorcan says. I chuckle at Lily's outraged face.

"Well, breaking hearts is probably much easier than what Rose has to do," Roxanne says. She's been admiring me all year, which I appreciate greatly. She seems to be the only one.

"Rose!" Lily says, as if she's just remembered I was here. "Tell us about the last task!"

I tell the riddle/poem the flower had sung. They all listen attentively as I tell them my suspicions. I leave out the last four lines of the poem, though, because they regarded me. I didn't consider them in need of being told to everyone here. I wasn't in the mood for everyone to dissect my inner feelings.

"So, the key is to stay with your partner?" Lorcan asks.

"Yeah, I guess—" but then I stop. I look up at Lorcan with scared eyes. I just remembered what I told him so long ago; the key was to betray your partner. I had lied to him. I could see the hurt in his eyes, so deep it brought tears to mine. He pulled his arm away from mine.

"So you have to stay with Scorpius for the whole time?" Albus asks, chuckling, unaware of the tense atmosphere in the room. "That should be interesting. I hope we can see it this time."

"Yeah," I say, distracted. I had forgotten that I had to stay with Scorpius. "I have to be loyal to him, too. I can't leave him. But… I have to remember home. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, since Scorpius reminds me of the back end of a pig rather than home," Fred says, to the laughter of everyone. Even Lorcan chuckles, although he refuses to look at me.

A sudden sense of foreboding fills me. With Lorcan mad at me, it seems that everything might just be worse. It doesn't take long before Lorcan announces he has to go to bed early to prepare for the task. No one finds it suspicious that he smiles at everyone but me.

It's midnight and I can't sleep. Dreams press against me in the humid air. My balcony doors are open, and outside I can see the fireflies dancing, their glowing bodies casting shadows across the railing. I would welcome sleep at this point. I need all the energy I can get for tomorrow and for the days that follow. We are to stay in the place we're going for a whole week, and all the while I'm the only one who knows that being loyal to your partner is the key.

Except now Lorcan knows it too, but he had to learn it the hard way.

I have to ask myself if I'm upset because Lorcan is angry with me, or if I'm upset because the one thing I held above everyone's heads, the one head start I had at winning, is now in the hands of the opposing team. What would matter more to me, in the end? Lorcan's happiness or mine? I have distorted my image of what makes me happy. Right now, in my mind, it's winning this competition. I don't know why it's there, but it is. And selfishly, I care about that more than Lorcan's happiness.

So why am I getting out of bed and preparing to go apologize to Lorcan? Because he's my best friend, I tell myself.

But maybe I can get him to believe I'm his, too.

The walk to the Ravenclaw common room is a long one. I realize half way there, through tired eyes and dull senses, that I'm barefoot and clad in nothing but shorts and a tank top. The halls are cold at night without the heat of a thousand bodies to fill them. I am shivering by the time I reach the portrait hole. I am given a riddle:

_I am the center of gravity, hold a capital situation in Vienna, and as I am foremost in every victory, am allowed by all to be invaluable. Though I am invisible, I am clearly seen in the midst of a river. I could name three who are in love with me and have three associates in vice. It is vain that you seek me for I have long been in heaven yet even now lie embalmed in the grave. What am I? _

I always get the hard riddles. Let's see….capital in Veinna, front of victory, midst of a river. In heaven, but now in the grave? I snap my fingers happily when I finally understand.

"The letter V!" I exclaim. I am immediately faced with the portrait hole, having solved the riddle correctly. I walk in quietly and make my way up the boys staircase. I use a _muffilato _spell on my feet to avoid waking anyone, and do the same when I get to Lorcan's bed, pulling the curtains around us before I wake him up.

"Rose?" he says through squinted eyes, just holding back a yawn. "What is it?"

"I came to apologize," I say, "for lying to you. It was wrong."

He sits up and rubs his face. I watch fondly as he flexes and stretches his muscles, and when he is fully awake he turns to face me with those warm blue eyes of his. "It wasn't wrong, Rose. It wasn't wrong to lie to me, because I'm sure I would have done it to someone if I were you. But what I think is wrong is that you chose keeping a secret over me."

"But isn't that still lying?" I ask.

"It is," he says, "but for a different reason."

I put my hand on his bare chest and listen and feel as he breaths. But it's only for a few seconds, and then he turns to get something on his dresser, but I'm sure there is really nothing there.

"The entire time I've known you, Rose," Lorcan begins, "you've wanted to be someone. Every one of our parents are famous in some way or another. We've all been in their shadows are entire lives….but you seem to be completely in the dark. You always used to tell me how you wanted to be amazing and famous. You wanted to invent a new spell or potion, or cure a disease, or save the world even. You told everyone this, but you told me that the reason you wanted all that was only because you wanted to please your parents and your family. You wanted to be great in their eyes, and you would do anything to get there."

My eyes are watering. I can't see anything but the blurry light of the moon on Lorcan's head. How does he know this? It's everything I've never known about myself.

I break down. There is no boundary to sadness, which is something I've repeatedly discovered. I rest my head of his chest and sob. And because I just can't lie anymore, I tell him everything.

I tell him everything about Scorpius, about him, about the lie that I've lived. Through all of it, as it spills continuously from my lips, I have the overwhelming sense that Lorcan is my one and only true love. It becomes white hot in my chest and in my words: I love him.

But every fairy tale must end.

"Rose," Lorcan says, and he is as calm as can be after I have just confessed what (in my mind) is as bad as murder, "I forgive you for everything that you've done. But you're not in love with me; you're in love with the fact that I could hold a great future for you, one where you would be successful. That's something Scorpius doesn't have. But I don't have your heart like he does. You may hate him now, but I have a feeling you still love him, and you always will. Don't let the prospect of approval or success change the way you feel."

It looks like it takes him a lot of effort to say it. I wrap my arms around him, tuning out his words. There is no way I'm ever going back to loving Scorpius. I love Lorcan…. I can feel it.

"I don't love him," I cry, "I love you."

With a heavy heart I kiss Lorcan, and with shaking hands he kisses me back. We are both in denial, I suppose.

_But I love Lorcan, I tell myself. There's nothing to deny. He allows me to kiss him, and I have no regrets in this embrace. So why does the doubt linger?_

_I just ignore it anyways._

XX

In the early hours of the morning when I am barely awake, I make my way up to my room only to find myself face to face with Scorpius for the first time in what seems like forever. Just seeing his eyes makes my heart leap and my hands tingle. There is so much emotion tied to this one boy.

"Rose," Scorpius says, his voice like velvet in my ears, "you got that flower after the second task, and didn't it tell you the key to winning the fourth task?"

I nod.

"We're partners, so we win or lose together. Tell me what it said."

I feel deaf for a moment. I haven't been this close to him for a long time. If there was any hope in me of forgetting the feeling I got when he held me and kissed me, or that glorious night in the forest, then it has evaporated in this moment. I would give my life just for him to kiss me right now.

"It said we have to stick together and remember home." If I just fell into his arms, would he hold me or push me away? His face is completely impassive.

"Loyalty, okay. I didn't know that part." He scrunches his eyebrows together like he's concentrating.

"You knew we had to remember home?" I ask.

"My—my dad told me. He helped design the island." He stops abruptly, like he's trying to keep something from me. "He said there can only be one champion, even though there are partners."

Something inside me begins to break. A tear falls down my cheek.

And then something happens that makes me want to evaporate into the atmosphere.

"Rose," Scorpius says, reaching out a hand to wipe away my tear. "I'm sorry for tricking you, and I know you're sorry for attacking me. I—I know we have our differences and all, but I want to make it up to you. Just as friends. I want us to win this tournament."

Tears stream down my face, but he catches each one of them. This is Scorpius Malfoy, and he is proposing friendship.

_And you know what is so amazing? Friendship before had been so forced and unnatural. But after everything we've been through, I think we could actually do it this time._

"Scorpius," I say, "is this another trick? I know you, and I know your father. I read the letters. I—I don't know if I trust you anymore."

As if in a dream, he pulls me into his arms and holds me there. I try not to cry, but I can't help it when my body shakes with sobs. Scorpius just holds me and holds me. Nothing in the world could make me doubt his truthfulness in this moment.

"Then don't trust me, Rose," he says. "I would tell you that I've been thinking a lot lately about you, and about my father. I would tell you that I think I love you more than a future with the approval of my parents. I would tell you that I've made my decision to defy my parents and be with you instead, whatever it took. But you might not believe me. So just….let me show you. I will help you win this thing, Rose. We're going to win it together."

For as long as I live, I tell myself. For as long as I live I will never forget those words.

When I wake up in the morning, I am still sobbing, but I silently pray that it was only a dream.

XX


	30. Chapter 30

XX

Surrounded by a thousand people are four of us, about to face the fourth and final task. When we come out, it will be the last day of school. This is the last chance I will ever have to prove myself, and oddly I know exactly what I have to do. I have to stay with Scorpius, even though he won't even make eye contact with me. How am I supposed to win this thing if he hates me, and I (think) I hate him? I'm not sure, but I know I have to.

I see my parents and family in the stands. Little Dora, who to this day reminds me of the evil/good child I saw on the first task, and how it represented my two different futures. Which path am I on today? My parents smile at me, proud of my accomplishments, approving of my love with Lorcan. That's the path I have always wanted to be on: the one my family approves of. So why am I so sad when I see their smiles? Everyone waves at me: Fred, Roxanne, Albus, James, Hugo, Victoire, Teddy, and even Dominique and Louis, who showed up just for the final task. Just for me.

"Welcome!" the minister cries to the crowd, which cheers loudly. "Today is the fourth and final task of the Four Founders Tournament! This, Helga Hufflepuff's task, beyond any, is the most challenging. Most unfortunately, none of us will be able to watch what goes on in it, but we can most certainly cheer for our four contestants! Tied for first place, we have Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy!" There is a loud roar from the crowd, and I smile when I see my friends and family booing Malfoy. "In second place, we have my very own Lorcan Scamander!" I cheer, and so does everyone in the stadium, maybe just because they don't want to be caught not cheering for the minister's son. "In last place, we have Anna Macmillan!" I hear screaming from all of Anna's girlfriends, who could not have been higher-pitched if they had a whistle lodged in their throats. "In this fourth task, these four champions will be transported magically to an island. This island is magic, of course, and has been in the making for the past three years. Let me just say, it is definitely something. If one of the champions wishes to leave, they should only need to Apparate back to Hogwarts. Of course, that is if they can consciously register that they want to leave!" The crowd laughs, and I get the feeling that Scorpius, Anna, Lorcan and I are the only ones who don't know what the task is.

Professor McGonagall comes over to us and smiles sadly, and immediately my heart drops into my shoes. "This is an extremely challenging task. You know your partners: Rose and Scorpius, Lorcan and Anna. Help each other out. Stick together and, above all, keep a level head. Remember what Hufflepuff valued above all else."

"And now, time to send our champions off!" the minister cries. Before I can even suck in a last breath, he is pointing his wand at us and yelling a spell.

The last thing I see is Scorpius. There he is, standing there, his hair luminescent in the sunlight, his blue eyes dancing with light. I can still see the scars on his face. They make him even more human. Is it just me, or have I changed him irrevocably? He is not the same person.

And neither am I.

The yells and cheers from the stands vanish as if they were sucked from the very air. I see that last glimpse of the warm yellow sunlight, and then I am gone. It feels like Apparating, yet I can tell that this is a distance I have never traveled before. Something in the back of my mind tells me that this is a place no one has ever traveled before. Even the aching in my lungs seems imaginary; as if they couldn't possibly know the distance they are overtaking without oxygen. I feel numb. I feel numb for so many reasons.

Just as suddenly, it's all over. I gasp the air, simply because I need it, because I want to feel again. The vacuum of space is no place to feel warmth. And here, there is nothing but warmth.

The air is salty and moist with the breeze of the sea. I haven't even opened my eyes. Despite only having been to the ocean twice in my life, I can tell something is off. The air is too sweet, too perfect; it almost seems intoxicating. I inhale so deeply my lungs feel like exploding. I don't want to open my eyes yet. I am so in love with the smell of the sweet sea salt, so calmed with the sound of the waves hugging to the shore, and so blissful in the warm sunlight, I never want to open my eyes again.

Because when I open them, there he is. His hair is even more golden in the sunlight than it was before, but this time I can't even see his eyes. They are widening at the scene before him.

I am completely overwhelmed at the sight before me. It's the most beautiful place in the world; I know this, not because it's the most glorious thing I've ever seen, but because it is so unnaturally beautiful that nothing could ever hold more splendor. Twenty yards from where I stand on the top of a sand dune, shoots of wheat begin to appear, swaying like waves in the wind. They form a golden meadow that continues for a good mile, and I can see it all. The gold ends at the edge of a vast jungle that takes up the far end of the island. The green is greener than any green I've seen, the sunlight glittering off the very leaves. Colors from within it pop like polka-dotted paper, yet I can't even make out what the intricate colors are. On the right side of the jungle, the trees begin to climb, turning slowly to ink black rocks that seem to climb into the sky. They form a glorious rock mound more than 200 meters high. The bright colors that lie in the jungle are atop the rocks as well; against the black, they look almost out of place. The turquoise ocean lies to the left of both the meadow and the jungle, surrounding the entire island in the purest blue. Even the sky is inexplicably beautiful; there isn't a cloud in sight, and the blue sky looks like shimmering glass.

I never want to tear my eyes away from the sight. They begin to tear up at the lack of blinking. I force myself to turn around and look at the ocean, thinking maybe it will clear my mind, and find my breath taken away once more. The water looks tropical from this distance. Through the clear blue I can see bright colors from underneath the water, possibly tropical fish, or a vast coral reef. Scorpius and I are on top of a tall sand dune, twenty feet from the sand below. It's a long drop, but the white sand and the slight slant to the dune seems almost enchanting. It might even be fun to slide down…..

"Rose!" Scorpius yells. It occurs to me that he might have been calling my name for a while; I am suddenly snapped out of my trance to find myself poised on the edge of the dune. It suddenly looks like a frightening drop.

I look up at him shamefully. It seems he alone has remained unmoved by the striking landscape. As usual, he is impervious to anything out of the ordinary. My head hurts, and my heart is racing. I begin to feel the beginning of panic. There is no escape here; all there is is beauty.

"Isn't it the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?" I say in awe. I_ am_ in awe. I am so struck by our surroundings I hardly notice the blush that creeps into his cheeks.

"No, it's not," he says. He looks almost afraid. "Rose, we have to get out of here. It's a trick. It may look beautiful, but I'm sure it's deadly. You said the point was to stick together, fine, but we have a bigger problem. We have to get food and fresh water, and we have to concentrate."

I nod absently. His words flow in and out of my ears like air.

"Rose!" he pleads. "Please, Rose, don't! It's hypnotizing you! You have to snap out of it!"

But I can't….. I try to say that it's impossible, but I'm too occupied with the rushing of the waves. They make a beautiful rushing noise as the sea foam clings to the white sand. All I want is to sit down and watch the waves. In fact, I think I might….

"Dammit, Rose!" His voice is washed out by the tranquil rushing waves. "Every illusion you believe, don't you? You can't see past beauty to see reality, not ever, because you're just too dammed stupid. As long as you want it, what does it matter the consequences?"

His rambling continues. Maybe he's just trying to make me retaliate, but I could care less. All I do is sit down on the warm sand and stare at the sea. Hypnotic…..

"I don't fucking believe this….."

And then I'm gone.

I don't know how long I'm gone, in the place between sleeping and dreaming. All I know is the ocean, endless as time, and the glorious warmth the sunlight brings. There is movement, the feel of skin on skin, and the panting of breath. But all of this is dull. Everything I once knew is dull in comparison to this new world. All I know is the ocean. All I know is the ocean.

Slap!

"Goddammit, Malfoy!" I screech. My ears are ringing (I can no longer hear the rush of the waves). "Did you just slap me?"

His usual smirk is gloating. I try to pick up my hand to slap him back, but my arm doesn't move. I look down in fear that it's suddenly disappeared; but no, it's still there, lying limp at my side.

"What the hell did you do to my arm?" I ask angrily.

"I didn't do anything, Weasley," Scorpius says. Grudgingly I am forced to believe him, because there's not much he could have done to it. Unless he dropped me at some point.

I look away from Scorpius's gloating face to face the landscape. We sit among the golden reeds, even more golden up close. They are soft against my bare skin. I can't help but sigh; they smell sweet, too, like warm bread you smell in the Great Hall on cold nights. They're tall, coming up to my neck easily.

"Don't you go under again," Scorpius says reproachfully. His eyes are vigilant, watching my every move, making sure that I don't slip away.

"What happened?" I ask.

He sighs deeply. "I told you that the island has a hypnotic quality. Remember the flower's poem? Remember home, when lenient landscapes lie before you. It means you can't be soft, Rose. You have to fight it."

There is something true and brave in his eyes. It's something I've rarely seen in him. Maybe I didn't notice before under the spell of the island, but he has changed since we left Hogwart's. The anger and betrayal in his eyes is no longer prominent. It's as if I never really attacked him, as if he never really betrayed me. I guess I have to face reality: last night was not a dream.

"But how do I fight it, Scorpius?" I ask. I am suddenly scared of this island and what it does to me. "I'm not like you; I'm not impenetrable. The beauty gets to me. How do I resist it?"

For the first time in what seems like forever, Scorpius smiles. A true, genuine, secretive smile. My heart flutters at the sight of him smiling like that. "Remember home, and the things that were beautiful there."

I smile back at him, closing my eyes. I try to remember something that doesn't dull compared to this island. My family all sing in my heart, and my love for them is blinding, but their faces seem to melt from the black of my eyelids. I can barely distinguish their features. Perhaps my lake at home? It's beautiful, especially in summer. But once again the image melts from my eyes.

I frown deeply. "I can't even remember what anything looks like back home." Not Hogwarts, not my friends nor teachers, or even the simplest of things, such as my favorite quill or a library book.

I hear Scorpius sigh. Maybe all hope is lost for me. Maybe the island has already gotten into my mind and muddled my memories. I open my eyes to find Scorpius staring at me in something akin to a secretive way.

"What?" I ask, but I am suddenly caught off guard by something. Not something. Him.

The late afternoon light makes him glow, I realize. He is so striking I don't know how I didn't realize it before. He's my image from home, the one thing tying me to the real world. He could live in this unnaturally beautiful island and not be out of place. He even looks real among the golden stalks of wheat; his image is the most prominent in my mind's eye. To me, he is the most beautiful thing here.

I close my eyes, feigning trying again. I open my eyes with a smile as bright as the sun, "Got it."

"Good," Scorpius says, "now, don't talk. Let's just concentrate on getting to a safe place. Look for food and water. We're going to climb up the rocks."

"Why?" I ask.

"Rose, my father designed this place. I think I know my way around."

I grumble but don't say another word. We begin walking at a leisurely pace towards the giant mountain of rocks. The closer I get, the more hypnotized I become. I try to fight the feeling, but I keep getting sucked under. I close my eyes just to orient myself again. The image of the yellow wheat is burned into my eyes. Scorpius doesn't let me get any closer to the jungle, even though I so desperately want to see what those fantastic colors are. My feet move unconsciously. There is a point where I am torn between wanting to run away from the haunting beauty or just wanting to sit down and watch it forever. There is no escaping it.

We climb the rocks for what seems like hours. They are black as ink, but they sparkle like diamonds. Just as I'm about to tear my hair out from frustration, we come to a clearing on top of the rocks. It's surrounded by lush green grass, with a clear blue pool in the middle where a waterfall comes and goes over the edge of the rocks. There is a cave where we stand. In the middle of the pool there's a flat rock with a palm tree growing out of it.

I step forward, expecting to scream from the overwhelming beauty, but oddly the second my foot touches the grass the weight of my senses alleviates. I am still stunned by the beauty, but I am no longer hypnotized or dazed by it. I let out a sigh of relief.

Just as the sun begins to set, Scorpius pulls me down to the grass and orders me to sleep. But I'm already gone before I even close my eyes.

**XX**

**A million thanks to my editor, Abby, (Joelle8) who graciously took time to nit-pick this piece. And a billion thanks to my reviewers. Every individual one makes me smile.**


	31. Chapter 31

XX

"What image do you imagine to keep you from drifting?" I ask.

The coy fish swim in circles around our little island with the palm tree. I sip my coconut slowly, savoring the fresh water and remembering how thirsty I had been when I woke up. The moon is so big in the sky. It's the kind of moon you see in pictures, filling up the entire night sky rather than just a tiny dot in it. It drenches everything around us in silver. I've never seen a more beautiful night.

There is a smile in his voice, even though I cannot see him, when he says, "Do you really want to know?"

"I don't know why not." I can't see anything that would be bad.

"You," he says.

"Sorry?" Maybe I didn't hear right, despite the complete silence around us.

"It's you," he says. "You're the only thing in the world that's more beautiful than this place."

Oh. So that's why he didn't want to tell me.

The silence, despite his words, is deep and long, yet completely blissful. I can't seem to feel the anger that I want to feel. Perhaps it's just this place, so tranquil; we had plenty of fights before now. All I feel is doubt. After nearly a year of distrust and manipulating, it's hard to truly believe the words coming from his mouth.

"Are you just saying that?" I ask.

"No! I mean it Rose, you really are the most beautiful girl in school—"

"That's not what I mean," I interrupt. "I mean are we really telling the truth now? I'm afraid that we're still going to lie to each other."

"Why would we?" Then Scorpius sighs, sounding suddenly sad. "Rose, there's no point in lying anymore. We have to be loyal to each other for this task; the point is to overcome our differences. If winning was still important to me, then I would have to be honest anyways."

He sounds like he has something more to say. I wait in the slow silence of our words. The fish swim faster and faster around the island.

"What do you mean, if winning was still important?" I ask.

He shifts, and I can hear his feet dip into the water. "My dad wanted me to win this thing. I didn't really care, but he did…."

I think of myself in that moment. It's odd how different our minds are. I wanted to win this more than anything, even though no one expected anything of me. I just expected it of myself. But Scorpius was pushed by his father, and that was his only reason for wanting to win. He didn't care at all.

"I suppose I don't really care about winning anymore." His voice drifts, as if he's talking to the moon. "I have bigger priorities. Like you, for instance. I hate it that this has come between us. I want…. I just want us to get along."

My breath catches in my throat. It might be my imagination, but I have a feeling there is something deeper in his words. There is no, 'I want us to be in love,' or, 'I want to show my dad that we can be friends.' Scorpius may think he's gotten over wanting his parent's approval, but he's only gotten so far.

"This whole year has been lies, Rose," he says. "At least, that's what I thought."

He goes into his account of this year. How he knew about the task since the beginning of summer. He knew we were both going to be selected, so he devised a plan over the summer to try and become friends with me and manipulate me into giving up my title as champion.

"It took you the whole summer?" I suddenly interrupt. "It only took me a few minutes to figure out your plan."

We both laugh a little, tense and hyperaware that we are treading on thin ice. He said that when he saw me at the beginning of the year, he decided becoming lovers would be better than just friendship. I knew there was more to it than he was saying; it wasn't just the fact that love was the better bait, but that friendship between us was dangerous and near impossible. We had known that for years.

As the year wore on, he thought I might have been falling for it. We certainly came close a few times. After the first task, he says, when I began to avoid him, he figured out that I had seen him in the mirror and been afraid (I blush profusely at this, disheartened that he knew my deepest desire.) He would just have to wait and be patient.

"Scorpius?" I ask. "Did you know that I knew the whole time?"

"After that night in the bathroom, I knew. I decided I would try anyways, in other ways. Like when you saw me kissing Anna, I was trying to make you fail by getting you jealous."

"Well that worked," I say sarcastically, even though it did work.

"Well, after the first task, you weren't willing to be around me. It made my job much harder, but I just had to wait for you to stop being scared."

I stop him again, suddenly curious. "What did you see in the mirror?"

"I saw the cup in my hand, and….and my father smiling by my side." His words are soft. I know he doesn't want to hurt me with them, but they feel like a punch to the gut. I let him continue with his story.

After the second task he saw the perfect opportunity to try and take me. I was confident with my victory and ready to try anything. He was shocked, though, that I said no to him asking me to the ball and instead decided to go with Lorcan. At the ball, he says, he figured out that it was a plan to get him jealous. It didn't stop him, though, and when I said I didn't want to play games anymore it changed nothing for him. In fact, it made his job easier. I trusted him, and he could easily win over me if that was the case. So he played along and I suspected nothing… I had no idea that he was still playing a game.

Through all of this, only about twenty minutes of it, I have been crying silently. It was all fake. I knew it before, but now it was confirmed. There is not a hitch in his voice when he talks of betrayal, or how much I truly loved him. He doesn't feel guilty at all, and for that I want to punch him. But I don't. I just cry quietly, glad that he can't see my face and see how much it all truly meant to me.

"When the third task came, I felt horrible when I knew what I had to do," Scorpius says. "I didn't want to betray everything that had built between us; it was like knocking down a building you had worked so hard to build. But I betrayed you anyways, and I saw how hurt you were. I'll never forget that look in your eyes, Rose. Like some part of you had just died away. I'm so sorry, even now, and I will always be sorry."

He stops for a moment. I hear him shift, getting up and walking around the slim tree to sit by my side. I feel numb again. My eyes are glued to the water where the fish swim. I barely even register the soft hand that slips into mind. His words are glued to every part of my body like skin. But still, he says sorry like a friend would say sorry. He never felt anything towards me, I think. Never truly cared. Even now, he only cares as my friend, even though I want so much more.

"Seeing how hurt you were did something to me. It was all just a game before that moment. The moment you cried, I was gone, and I will never go back. I changed with your sadness, and as you grew to hate me, I grew to realize I couldn't stand it. I wanted friendship. I didn't want hatred anymore. I didn't care about winning, so long as you could forgive me. The night I was going to go apologize for everything, to make it all up to you, you attacked me. I never got the chance."

Some kind of vacuum begins to suck the air from my lungs. My breath comes in dry sobs, but Scorpius does nothing, just squeezes my hand tighter. Everything could have been different….everything could have been perfect. Maybe I could have even made our friendship Scorpius that would have proposed into something more…. But I decided to mess up, and it all changed.

Scorpius continues, his voice tight. "Nearly dying didn't change me. It just made me realize that you would never forgive me, and for that, I would never forgive myself. I refused to look at you simply because I couldn't stand to see the hate in your eyes. And now….we must be united, and it seems we've never been further apart."

I can't speak. At least, I don't think I can speak, but I somehow manage to choke out the words, "Scorpius—wait—"

But he doesn't. "I want you to forgive me, Rose. I want to be able to forgive myself. Can we be friends?"

Has it been that we both hate each other, or that we both hate ourselves for what we've done to each other? Right now, hate has vanished completely. I hate no one. But even worse, I love Scorpius. I am so enamored with him it's ridiculous, and all he wants is for me to forgive him.

And he only wants me to forgive him so he can forgive himself.

"Scorpius, I hate you for what you've done. I hate myself for what I did to you. But—I guess I forgive you."

The dry sobs stop. I hold Scorpius's hand as tight as I can grip while tears stream down my face. Everything is out in the open, everything is resolved. It should be that way, but it's not. I'm in a foreign place that is as enchanting as Scorpius himself, and I can't seem to let my guard down. Friendship is not what I want, and it has never been what I want from him.

But I love him so much it's painful, and I realize now I will walk the roads of Hell just to be with him at all. Friends or lovers, enemies or acquaintances. I want to be with him…always.

"Would you like to go swimming?" he says quietly.

I sniffle and wipe away my tears, laughing a little at the suddenness of his question. "I'd love to."

Despite the danger I feel is in the air, I stop being hyperaware and just relax. I let all pretenses fall away, all cautions slip from my sight, and I let all memories slip from my grip. It's easy to do when the moonlight is bathing us in silver; when the water in shimmering invitingly with fish dancing beneath its surface; when Scorpius has lifted his shirt to reveal a pale, lean stomach and strapping limbs. I wait for him to dive into the water with his boxers before I follow his example, taking off my shirt and pants, leaving my bra and panties. I throw them near the fern bushes and turn to jump in the water.

I am suddenly caught breathless by the image before me. Scorpius has resurfaced, the water droplets milky white and clinging to his face. Even if it was just a normal pool of water, I would have been mesmerized, standing in awe just as I am now, sparsely clothed and wondering how anyone could be so handsome.

"Come on, Rose," Scorpius says. His eyes are black in the night, but there is something analogous to lust shimmering deep in his greedy eyes. But that's just Scorpius for you. I know, as I suppose I always will, that all he wants is friendship. I smile at him; he is feasting on my image just as I am on his. "The water's lovely."

He's right. The water is warmer than the air outside, which is a perfect tropical heat. I stay submerged beneath the water, immersed in the silky feel (the water, unsurprisingly, is like silk; so different than the water I am used to). I open my eyes to find a brilliantly clear image, as if I had a bubble-head charm on. I can see the dark sand and pebbles, the small island, and the orange and black fish circling it. They stop their swimming to stare at me in wonder. I smile at them before swimming back to the top.

"Having fun?" Scorpius asks.

I laugh lightly and move the plastered hair from my forehead. "Very much."

I move over to where he stands, his back to mine, gazing intently over the ledge. The water is not as deep from where he is; I can stand up easily. I lean over the ledge with him, our elbows brushing. Below us are the beach and the ocean beyond. We're on the opposite face of the rock pile I saw when we first arrived. I can barely see the jungle; just a small burst of green near the left of the beach before it curves out of site.

"It's beautiful," I say. I remember the corny novels of my youth, where the woman would comment on the beautiful scenery, and the man would stare at the women and couldn't help but agree. I always imagined those things never really happened. I was probably right.

"Absolutely breathtaking," Scorpius agrees. And when I look at him, he is just staring contentedly at the ocean. I am right. The hollow feeling inside me makes itself clear in that moment.

But I laugh so easily and freely I almost feel giddy. Our noses are close enough to touch, yet Scorpius doesn't even notice.

"When you laugh your eyes light up," he says.

I feel like giggling at the silliness of our lines. It's like a corny novel, and I have never felt such conflicting warmth and hollowness at his words. And because it's a corny night, even though it's just a friends night, I say, "When you laugh I light up, too."

XX


	32. Chapter 32

**Okay….So if you've been reading this story for the first time, then go ahead and skip this authors note. If this is the second time you are coming back to it because you saw the little update in your email, then please read below.**

**I am beyond apologetic for what this chapter was. I had faithful reviewers who admired what I had done, and I completely let them down with a final chapter that not only made no sense whatsoever, but completely disregarded all that this story had once stood for. I am so sorry. A great many thanks to the reviewer wynnsy, as they made me truly see my flaws. I hope they get the chance to read this. **

**So, here is the entirely revised version of this chapter, plus an additional chapter and epilogue that should answer a lot of the questions that truly need to be answered. Again, I am so sorry. **

**XX**

XX

The night opens like a midnight flower. It's beauty grows as each petal reveals itself in the moonlight, as each sound is sung in the silent night, as each smell grows ever sweeter and more intoxicating. Once more, I find I cannot sleep for the beauty of it. The night is pressing upon me, so softly and surely, and I can't ignore the weight I bare.

Scorpius and I sleep under the stars. There are so many, so many more than I've ever seen, I simply feel that the sky will rain beautiful orbs at any moment. The grass is cool and soft beneath my back; it's the only thing that ties me to the ground and doesn't allow me to drift up into the sky with the stars. The air is warm and moist, reassuring, and hinting of the sweet smell of jasmine. I inhale the air just like I inhale the night before me. But I don't just inhale the boy beside me; I swallow him whole.

His skin is warm and soothing on mine. It's soft, I realize, and hard with muscles. Even though I'm right beside him, breathing him in, I miss him somehow. I miss him like I should miss my mother and father, Lorcan and Al and Pamela and Caroline. I should miss the golden comforter on my bed, the glowing embers in the fire, and the delicious smell of the morning when the sun first rises. I should miss Hogwarts and all that comes with it; my beautiful golden owl, my old Gryffindor commons room, and bathing in the prefect bath and letting my troubles melt away. I should miss the way my lake at home looks in the spring time, and I should miss the way Lorcan and I would lay under the stars or next to the fire, just holding each other. But I don't miss any of it. In fact, I can hardly remember it. I just want one thing, and that's Scorpius.

I can hear his steady breathing next to me. He's been asleep for a long time, but I am restless. I couldn't sleep under perfection, because I never have before. Scorpius has lived in close-to-perfect (or what this island represents as perfection) conditions. I have never had anything close to this island. What I remember distantly of perfection is of warmth and love, not of beauty. I also remember that I liked my version better.

That's when I hear the water. Before, the island had been nothing but the distant crash of the waves and the heaviness in the air. Now something was moving, so swiftly and beautifully, I could barely distinguish the noise as danger. In the fish pond before us the water was moving, and the sound that came…. It was as even more intoxicating than the ocean waves, than the scent, than even the beautiful island flowers. It was unearthly and soft and so completely lovely I didn't dare even breathe, for fear of interrupting what I could only describe as music.

So cliché, I thought. So much beauty and wonder in everything that has happened, I should have just ignored it and scoffed at it by now. But this….

I don't want to wake Scorpius for this. For some reason, I feel it is just me alone that should hear this music. I feel connected to it in a way. Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I wouldn't want to share this with anyone. I leave my place on the grass and drift through the night towards the pool. The moon is at the very center of the sky, surrounding the tiny island in the center in a silver halo, making the water glow eerily. The fish are gone. In their place are four people.

The first one I see takes my breath away. He has silver-white skin in the night, glistening in the brilliance of the moon, and feathery blonde hair with incredibly light eyes. He looks as if, at the slightest gust of wind, he would float away. He sits on the side of the pool nearest to me, staring into the air, and watching nothing with the deepest interest. The second one is a woman, incredibly beautiful, with dirt on her skin as she sits under the willow tree. Her hair is long and matted in millions of curls, all a rich brown, just a hue lighter than her nearly black skin. The third is another man, floating in the water, so shockingly handsome I hold my breath. He has golden hair and deeply tanned skin. My first thought looking at him is of the ocean. His skin like the sand, his hair like the sun, his eyes like the ocean with stormy cliffs in reach of the water. He seems to enjoy the water more than even I do. He floats on his back amidst the pool, silver and gold, all beauty and absolutely no words to describe him. The fourth I could not miss, could not possibly describe, but I have averted my eyes until now to shield them from her. She sits in the center island, long legs hovering above the water that she literally makes _steam _with. She looks full of a burning passion that is indescribably lustfull, her eyes half closed in pleasure, her head laying back longingly against the palm tree. Her hair is the color of fire, red and orange and white and blonde, so utterly brilliant and not even catching an inch of silver from the moon. The night cannot touch her. She is fire, glowing, beautiful and incredible, and I am breathless.

"Come be with us," the fire-girl says. Her voice is fast and crackling, intoxicating, and I can still hear the song they sang in the back of my mind. I move forward, closer to them.

"Who are you?" I ask dreamily.

"We are the dreamers," the man in the water says. His lips move as if water is flowing from them, his voice smooth and creamy. I find it hard to look away from his golden face.

"I'm Rose," I say.

"You are the fifth," the girl beneath the willow says. Her voice is so deep and rich, I almost close my eyes in wonder. I want to hear it again. And just like that, she sings, richer and deeper than any song I've ever heard, in words unfamiliar and delicate. I open my eyes only because I want to see more.

"You can stay with us forever," says the silvery boy by the pool. His voice is like wind in my ears. "Become beautiful with us. Sing with us."

I move three steps in their direction. I am now at the waters edge, completely intoxicated, so ready to be among these beautiful four. There is nothing I want more than to be as beautiful and flawless and loved as these four creatures. There is nothing I want more. There is nothing I want—

"Rose!"

It's Scorpius of course. I haven't forgotten him at all, only remembered that it would be better to leave him. Something akin to fury bubbles in my chest. I am angry at him for interrupting this. This precious moment, more beautiful, better than any I have ever had. He grabs my arm, and in a fury I pull away from him. He looks hurt. He looks heartbroken, but I step forward anyways.

Into the water, and I have fallen into oblivion.

XX

_When I wake I am alone. So alone, so alone, so alone, except for the millions of mirrors reflecting the girl I no longer recognize. _

_The room is dark, but she is brilliantly luminous, lighting the entire room. Her hair falls down to her waist in a cascade of curls, soft and delicate. Her skin is a rich olive color, pale but beautiful, not a mark out of place. I stare. I couldn't stop staring if I tried. No one could. Her eyes are robin-egg blue, flecks of gold spattered in them, aligned in a perfect heart-shaped face. There is so much beauty in her I couldn't look away if I wanted to. This is me, the me that belongs on this island, and I want to have her. I want to be her forever. I have always, my entire life, wanted to be this girl._

_But for inexplicable reasons, I can't stop crying. My reflection looks at me, judging me, but my heart is broken. I don't want this girl anymore. I just want my family, my friends. I want everything to be normal and entirely imperfect. _

_More than this girl—more than anything else in the entire world—I want Scorpius to love me like I love him._

I awake in the heady atmosphere of twilight. I can't remember anything, not myself, not my presence in this world. Everything is so breathtaking I can't think straight. I fight for control, for some dominance over the beauty of the place. The pink, glowing cherry trees, the silken green grass as my ankles, the twinkle of the night on the horizon. I stand in a circle of trees, the breeze rustling the leaves, white flowers drifting in the air. I can feel it in the air; it's charged, electric, hypnotic. It's everything I'm sure I've ever wanted.

I feel a body crash into mine. "Oh, Rose, thank Merlin you're alright."

I can't move my eyes, but I manage to reach for him as the light fades darker. I hold him close….or does he hold me? I manage to close my eyes as his lips hold mine, sweeter than before, and I run my hand through his silken tresses. There is only one thing I do, and that is kiss him, eyes closed, ears closed. I know somewhere distantly that he is what will bring me back. To what…. I'm not sure I want to me back.

"Rose," he sings, his voice cascading over me like cold water, sharpening my mind.

"Keep talking," I say. My voice is unfamiliar in my ears.

"Rose, Rose, Rose," he says. "This is wrong; everything about this is wrong."

I know I can trust myself to open my eyes. When I do, it is dark, the moon not fully risen yet. Two ocean blue eyes are before me, opening to me like I know they've never done to anyone else.

Every bit of calm left in my mind shatters. I cry out in horror, in pain, because this is not the boy I want it to be. This is Lorcan, my best friend since birth, who despite what love we have felt before never has felt so wrong against my skin.

"Lorcan," I sob. "I need _you_ again."

As the moon rises higher in the sky, I close my eyes to the silver and gold of the trees and grass; I force myself to register his words as he speaks to me. "Rose, I just want us again. I want our friendship. I want both of us to be happy, and not just me."

These words, of course, are said over the course of hours. He sobs and cries in between each syllable, but eventually they come out, and I know they aren't just to reassure me. They are the truth. I hold on to those words, imperfect and ugly, trying to make them my everything as the whole world turns fake.

We stay connected, light touches and urgent minds, until the moon has risen to its peak. We both know that our weakness is this island before us, and that we can't afford to look and risk losing our senses again. That's what we tell ourselves, that's what we tell each other. We keep speaking of friendship, of how much we hated ourselves for what we have done, and I tell him how in love I am with Scorpius. That, most of all, is what brings our pain to a close—together, because it means he can't ever have me, and because I alone know that he will never love me.

Though our touches are subdued, only necessary to keep our minds trained on each other rather than the world around us, they make me feel different than if Scorpius had been the one to hold me. When I'm with Lorcan, I just think of home—of family, of summertime love, of a lifetime friendship. The happiness with his is temporary, fleeting, and then it drains into simple contentment to be with my best friend. He knows how to hold me and what to say, yes, better than anyone I've ever known. But he's not Scorpius.

When Scorpius holds me it's a touch that sets my veins on fire. I can practically see the sunlight streaming red through them, illuminated by a love so strong it's practically otherworldly. The happiness and love I feel for him never fades. It's constant, unyielding, entirely enamored with the simple fact that his skin, his words—they belong to _me. _It is of lifelong love, hardship, anger, and opposition. I know how hard I will have to fight to be with him. I know how much both our families will try and change our minds. But if he loves me, and I know I love him, then it will make the battle worth it.

But Lorcan is here, assuring me that everything will be okay, and telling me that we are now just friends. I am so grateful that he had the strength to say it, because I know I never could. My need to constantly be loved would have risen above common sense, I am sure of it. I almost cry from the relief to know the truth in something. We know each other inside and out; there is no stopping that, lovers or friends.


	33. The End

Lorcan has left me, assuring me that I would be okay. Anna came for him, finally, and they had to leave. I understand. There is no real danger presented to me, only that of myself. And at the moment it feels as if I am alone on the edge of the earth. I sit on the rocky cliff, feel the heat trapped beneath the stone, and wonder why I can't seem to feel anything else. The water crashes into the rocks below in rhythmic, sweet patterns, and I am reminded of dancing. The way he would slide beneath me, wanting mouth open, trying to suck in enough air to pacify the limits of lungs that didn't need oxygen. They needed _me. _But do they still?

The light dangles precariously in the air, but I find that the beauty simply doesn't matter to me anymore. I dote on the simple things, because I know my mind couldn't handle anything more than a simple observation. I am not whole right now, and I know that Scorpius is probably handling this all with perfect and entirely unbroken lungs. But every time I breathe I want to cry and maybe I _want _my lungs to break, because that would be easier and maybe then I'd stop feeling _this. _

I am unaware of my legs moving beneath me, but suddenly I am standing. The edge of the cliff is entirely alluring, simply by nature, but it appeals to me for a different reason. I don't want to die, of course I don't. But I would give anything to forget this heart-numbing pain for just one minute. Suddenly, I am pushing myself off the edge, falling through the air, gracefully past the rocks, and I welcome the pain and the horrible sounds as my body hits the water with a sickening _crack. _

I dive under, and my heart still feels the thrill despite the horrible throbbing in every inch of my body. In that I know that I'm not entirely dead. I can try, though. I stay beneath the surface, feeling the tug and push of the rhythm, throwing me carelessly into the silky sand. But the water tastes like sugar, not salt, and when I open my eyes I can see perfectly. The rhythm is too right and I can almost hear the music. I don't want this. I crave the imperfection of something, _anything, _and the ocean is the one thing that can be the most beautiful thing in the world while still being the most flawed.

The pain is almost too much. It makes me forget, briefly, just how much I miss Scorpius. But it also makes me remember that I'm actually in danger. This decision was impulsive and stupid, and I certainly thought that because the water was so beautiful, it had to be painless, too.

I can see the blood in the water too clearly. The fear is suddenly as overwhelming as the pain. I can't breathe, my lungs are full of liquid, and I'm scared that I won't be able to save myself.

When I see the white, I just think it's the jagged edges of the waves, deciding to throw me against the rocks. But it seems real and not as fluid as everything around me, and when it gets close enough I'm sure I'm dreaming. The black spots swarm my vision, I feel a tug at my arm, and I'm gone.

The sun is warm and so are my bones. I can feel the heat searing in them as they heal, with magical help, and I know now just how many I've broken. I look up at the sky, which seems relatively plain to me, and then I notice the creature beside me. Twice the size of my body, there sits the beautiful white tiger I once tried to kill, its head forlornly on its paws. It looks at me with large blue eyes, its fur damp from the ocean, and I know now what it was that saved me.

"Scorpius," I whisper. It doesn't hurt to say his name as I imagined it would have been. He gives a low growl and then his body transforms, and suddenly he is just a boy, his hand on the side of my face, his naked torso breathing heavily with worry.

"Rose….I don't understand." His eyes are shimmery, but it might just be from my lucid mind at the moment. He can't possibly care this much about a _friend. _

"It was too much," I say, my excuse shallow, but I think he understands. I didn't really try to kill myself. I didn't know, but neither did he.

We sit in silence for a while. I am not sorry for the pain in my bones. It helps me keep my focus on something other than the pain in my heart.

"I wanted to tell you," he says quietly, almost not even to me. More to himself. These words shouldn't be for me to hear. "Rose, my entire life has been about pleasing my father. Trying to be the boy he never was. That was why I had to win this tournament—it would bring something to the family name other than just shame."

I stare at him, the sun in each and every water droplet on his skin, his eyes trying to search in mine for something I know isn't there. "Scorpius, I know. I read the letter. I understand."

"No, you _don't_!" he says, his voice full anger—at me or his father, I'm not sure. "You can't possibly understand how hard it was….after seeing you broken like that, after _betraying _you just because my father said I must… There was nothing in the world I wanted more than your forgiveness."

He reaches a hand and lays it on my face, his fingers caressing my skin like he did those many months where he pretended to be in love with me. This time it feels no different. My heart still flutters with hopeless longing, my mind still races at the possible implications of this touch, and I still find his eyes trained on mine, looking at me as if I truly mean something. It's only different now because I know the truth.

"Now that I have your forgiveness, I realize something else." His face seems closer now. I can practically count how many eyelashes he has, clumping together from the water, his breath uneven in his words. "There is nothing in the world I want more than your friendship. But I will go the rest of my life with your forgiveness and friendship and still want nothing more than your love."

His lips felt entirely different than they did when he was pretending, always pretending. Now the truth seeped through the kiss, and my happiness held no pretenses. This was something I had always wanted, but somehow now was the first time I was aware that I truly had it. The kiss was not deep or lustful or even long. It was a simple meeting for the first time of two people who held no pretenses—only love.

"Can you imagine what your father will say when we get back?" I whisper, my hands entangled in his sandy hair, our smiles reaching the sky.

"Can you imagine that I won't even care?" he whispers back, and then leans back in to deepen the kiss.

Someone soon would find us in the meadow, our backs bowed together in the erroneous light, our bare skin reflecting nothing but the sun and each other. But I find the familiar longing, electric and pulsing, rising up within me. I try to suppress it, but it fights back like a long-contained beast, it's open mouth roaring in protest and lust.

The longing in my chest pushes hard against me, to the point where I feel like I could break. I want Scorpius, and not in the I-want-to-kiss-him kind of way. I want him the way I want the ocean, the way that I want the sun-drenched sky, the way I want my whole life to live and not to miss a moment. I want him in the way I want life; that constant, unceasing need to inhale everything in the _beautiful, beautiful _air.

There's a pause of thought, a moment to breathe but not to exhale. I can see the darkness spreading beneath the moon. His eyes meet mine, so blue and beautiful. We are together under the stars, not exactly aware what we are supposed to do on this task but know that as long as we are together, it will come to us. He whispers that he loves me and I say it right back. And suddenly, it's as if the night is on fire.

Every beautiful image, every blurry memory, and every inch of sadness disappear from within me. It's him. It's him. It's always been him. Everything in the world is clear, and suddenly I can hear my heart beat in my chest, and I can hear the sound of the waves that are crashing into the shore without rhythm or beauty. The bright stars fade, the golden hues and harsh colors wash out, and everything that has been everything to me for this past week melts away into this one boy before me. I could not have seen anything else if I had tried.

His smile is soft and fleeting, and I can only mildly understand the emotions conveyed on his face. But it's beautiful all the same, and I want nothing more than to fall into his arms and let him love me until the beautiful world around us collapses.

Everything but Scorpius begins to take on an odd hue—like it was all melting away, just leaving the boy before me.

His eyes find me in the mist. Beautiful, sun-drenched. Not familiar as another pair I know, but I love them—I love him—anyways. "Rose," he says. "Will you marry me?" It suddenly occurs to me that nothing like that has touched me to the core with happiness in a long, long time.

And then we are both being pulled through time and space, and nothing in time and space do we notice when we are with each other. Somewhere in all of it, with our bodies crashing like waves into the rocky shore, with our eyes lost to see, with our mouths moving wordlessly—I tell him yes. And I don't think I've ever said something truer than that.

We are back at Hogwarts. There is uproar as Scorpius and I appear, confused but at ease, and we are handed the trophy and patted on the back like the champions we truly are. I don't feel anything other than the words still caressing my mouth, his words still echoing in my ears, and the fact that now there is absolutely nothing stopping us. And there was nothing else in the world more painfully right than the way our hands intertwined, clumsily, and the way both of our arching smiles had nothing to do with winning. There was nothing in the world more beautiful than the way we locked gazes, and his eyes (beautiful, blue and love-lost) met mine.

XX

**The End—sort of! Epilogue will be coming in a few short days. Again, I apologize for the atrocious ending that was here before I revised it. I will make the epilogue amazing for all your suffering.**

**Sorry if this was super cheesy too. The epilogue won't be at all, so I just had to have one last shot at my artsy-ness. **


	34. Epilogue

**This story has been a really, really long project. I started it early 2009 and worked on it for more than a year before I published the first chapters. I have had writers block and the occasional awful chapter that even my most faithful and kind readers could not stomach (AKA chapter 32 before I revised it). But overall, this has made me grow more as a writer than anything I've ever done. I won't have any others as long as this story, as I need to focus on a novel that I'm currently in the process of making/trying to get published.**

**Thanks to the fabulous editors that I've had, especially Joelle8, and thanks to the many reviewers who have made this story worthwhile. It means more than you can ever know. **

**And now, finally, here it is: The End.**

**XX**

_The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly  
than even the__ final surrender__; because this kiss already has within it_

_that surrender__. _

_Emil Ludwig_

Maybe it's just me, but I swear that on the one day where everything is supposed to be completely and utterly at its most perfect, nothing in one day has ever gone so horribly wrong.

The flowers weren't even here yet, for one thing. The dresses for all the girls didn't fit properly. Half the guests had been sent the wrong time, and now various people were apparating to their homes to tell them that the time had been changed. And to top it all off, I am a complete nervous wreck. I can barely hold still for Caroline to do my make-up, let alone walk down the damn aisle.

I, Rose Weasley, am getting married today. I am getting married to Scorpius Malfoy, and that alone seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel in all of this chaos. A year ago this would have all seemed entirely impossible. But here I am…here we are.

"Rose, you have to sit still," Caroline says as I continue to fidget. Pamela smiles at me in the mirror as she runs her wand again over an already perfect curl. I don't mean to sound shallow, but I look pretty damn good.

One year ago today, Scorpius and I emerged from the fourth task of the Four Founders Tournament with eyes only for each other, our fingers intertwined and our happiness misinterpreted as excitement at winning. Really, that didn't matter to either of us anymore.

Scorpius's father was the first to say anything to us. He came to us, his eyes narrowed in suspicion before we had even spoke, and said, "Scorpius, cut the act. You've won and there's no reason to fraternize with people such as this."

I had honestly never seen Scorpius look more terrified than that moment. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and he said to his father, "It's not a game, father. I'm in love with her and you are just going to have to accept that."

Some choice words were said before Draco Malfoy turned and left the two of us, so angry he was visibly shaking. My parents were next, and once Dad saw the two of us holding hands, he immediately became so enraged that the very tips of his fingers turned red and his mouth moved without a single word escaping. My mum was happy and distraught at the same time. She hugged me and congratulated me on winning, as did Aunt Ginny, Teddy, Victorie, and pretty much my entire family. All except my father and Uncle Harry, who were talking viciously under their breath and hoping that it was just a joke.

Scorpius and I returned for our final week at Hogwarts, content to be with each other in peace and calm before the true rage of our families got to us. Returning to our Head Commons, I was somehow not surprised to see that the portrait of the hag was no longer of a hag; instead, a very smooth skinned, pretty woman smiled knowingly at us as we asked for entrance. Our secret? We were getting married. We finished what little schoolwork we were assigned, preformed our head duties with no complaint because it meant more time together, and said a final goodbye to all our professors. We slept together every night, sat with friends by the lake in the warm afternoons, and prepared ourselves for the torment we would enter as soon as we left the security of Hogwarts for the last time.

My entire family accepted Scorpius much faster than I could have possibly hoped. It was clear he was not his father, and my mum became especially fond of having him around the house when I came to visit from the apartment complex I shared with Scorpius in London. My dad and Uncle Harry took a great deal of convincing. We didn't announce our engagement until they finally grudgingly accepted Scorpius as my boyfriend, so long as they never had to have a civilized conversation with his father. After announcing we were getting married, however, things took a turn for the worst. As my entire family swooned and fought over who would plan and coordinate which part of the wedding, the two men refused to talk to anyone. I had graduated top of my class, won an incredible victory analogous to my uncle's victory in his fourth year, and now had an extremely high position working in the Department of Mysteries. But I announce my engagement to Scorpius Malfoy, and you think I had committed a crime and was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Scorpius's family was an entirely different story. I was never spoken to by any of them. I was simply a phase for Scorpius, and I would leave soon enough. But when Scorpius, without my knowing, decided to tell them that we were engaged, all hell broke loose. Thank Merlin for his mother, who had enough sense to see that this decision was a good one, and took it into her own hands to make sure that no one interfered or thought too poorly of me. Oh, of course Scorpius's father threatened to disinherit him; Lucius Malfoy actually did take him out of his will. But Scorpius was faithful and defensive as ever to his decision to marry me.

Despite a year of absolute hell, opposition and hateful words (not just of our families but of the Daily Prophet and all its gossip as well), it only made it more apparent that we were meant to be together. If we could fight all this, we could fight anything love and marriage would eventually throw at us.

We never thought back to the mistakes we made and hurt we caused each other in seventh year. After a month of Scorpius trying his very best to make it all up to me, I told him very firmly that I never wanted to hear it again. So it was all put in the past, and all the hurt in the world could never make me think twice about loving him.

So here I am. My hair is twirled up into a princess bun, with shiny red curls falling in a careless fashion around my face. I tell Caroline that if it's obvious I look like a witch in a clown costume, she is not allowed to be my bridesmaid anymore. So she uses a subtle hand and the only obvious makeup is the arches of gold under my eyebrows and along my cheekbones. I know I look like a princess, but I feel like a queen.

"You look stunning," Pamela says in my ear. She is my maid of honor, and her dress is pure white, long sleeved and short., with silver accents at the neckline. Caroline is dressed in a silver one of the exact same design. The dress code for all the guests was silver or white. It was Victorie's idea.

I am still in my white robe, but before I have time to change into my dress, the room is suddenly full of people. First Teddy and Victorie, who are holding Dora's hand as they make their way clumsily towards me. Dora is almost three, with an attitude to match, and perfect ringlets of gorgeous blonde hair.

She immediately crawls into my lap and smiles toothlessly up at me. "Rosie looks beauty," she says, and I smile and hug my goddaughter tighter.

"You look pretty yourself, Dora," I say. She is the flower girl, of course, and is dressed in a pretty white dress. James, who married two years ago, is going to have his barely two year old son bear the ring—which I am totally convinced is a bad idea.

"We're all so happy for you, Rosie," Victorie says, giving me a hug. "And you really do look beautiful."

I smile and thank her, trying not to let the emotions ruin my makeup just yet.

"We can't wait to see your dress, Rose," Teddy says, taking Dora and bidding a final goodbye. Teddy, Victorie, Pamela and Caroline are the only one's who know what my dress will look like—no one but Victorie and me have actually seen it before. It's supposed to be a surprise, but I'm pretty sure people are already curious as to why they've been assigned a white dress code.

My mum comes in, in a pretty white dress, and I can tell she's been crying. "I'm so happy for you, Rose," she says. "I just can't believe you're getting _married."_

I laugh and say, "I know, Mum. I'm still in shock myself."

She kisses my cheek. "I don't think there's anyone I would have approved of more, Rose."

I smile and can feel the tears coming. She doesn't know what her words truly mean to me. Her approval isn't just that—it means what only my mother could mean. I stood up to everyone to defend my choice, which has my mother (as well as myself) convinced of our love more than anything else could have proven.

Hugo comes up behind Mum and gives us both a big hug. "No tears, ladies, this is a happy day," he says. I smile at him and ruffle his incredibly red hair. "You'll be great, Rosie. I've decided I adore your soon-to-be husband, so you now have permission to marry him."

"Right," I say, "because if you came to me an hour before I'm to say my vows with disapproval, I would have called the whole thing off. I love you, Hugo, but I'm not that daft."

Albus comes in after, and there are truly no words that we need to use. He hugs me tight and I suddenly feel like a little girl again, when we would play in the garden and a gnome would bite me, and he would hold me and tell me it was all right. More than anyone else, Albus was the most supportive in my love for Scorpius. He said he sort of always knew it was coming. He said I was always one to stir up trouble. He pecks me on the cheek and wishes me luck, then leaves the room.

Pretty much all of my relatives come and see me before the hour is up. James and his wife and their two year old ring bearer. Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny. Lily, who sits for ten minutes talking to me about our honeymoon before I tell her to go be with the rest of the bridesmaids. And then, finally, the one person I needed to see most comes in, dressed in the white tuxedo that Scorpius assigned him as his best man.

"Lorcan," I say. He smiles and embraces me, and I am entirely pleased to see that his heart is not racing and his hands are steady as they push a loose curl from my face.

"I'm not going to say I'm happy for you," he says, his smile still holding, "because I'm not. And it would be very cliché to say you look beautiful, even though you do. But I have been here for you since we were kids, and I am not letting some dumb husband of yours stand in the way of me still being your best friend."

I grin at him, not sure whether to laugh or cry. So I just say, "Lorcan, I wouldn't want it any other way."

"Good," he says. "I still can't believe he asked me to be his best man. Rose, you clearly have too many friends. He needs to get some of those."

"Oh, be quiet. I'm sure he knew how much it meant to me."

"Now, just because you're married doesn't mean I can't stop coming over to your house once a week without notice, does it?"

"Well, it would be advisable to knock, but feel free."

"Can I bring my new girlfriend?"

My mouth drops open. "New _girlfriend_?"

"Yes," he says casually. "She already comes over quite a bit, I'm sure, as do most of the Potters—"

"_You're dating LILY?" _I yell. What is he thinking? Trying to give me a heart attack before my wedding?

"As of last week, yes," he says. "Sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I thought you had enough on your mind."

I say to him as he turns to leave, "And I don't have enough on my mind _now_?"

He laughs the same old Lorcan laugh, and despite my utter astonishment, my heart warms. Despite all the chaos, it makes everything okay knowing that my best friend is happy.

Pamela and Caroline come in one last time to touch up my makeup and hair, wish me luck and lots of love, and then I am left alone to do the last thing—my dress.

It's been magically concealed and hidden in a place only I know about so that no one else would see it. I pull out my wand and use it to help me slide it flawlessly on, pulling at the seams to make it fit better, until finally it feels right on my body. I take a deep breath and step in front of the mirror.

It looks as if my entire body is being enveloped in flames. The dress is the darkest crimson, practically illuminant in even this sparse lighting. It is strapless, the chest ruffling and a golden ribbon wrapped just under it. It is tight all the way down to my mid thigh, where it then transforms as if it was a mermaid tail. The red falls in a curtain over the white mesh material underneath, forming a ruffled V. The white underneath is decorated with golden roses and vines that trail up my body to meet my hipbone, where they glitter and look as if they're moving when the light catches them.

I feel alive. I feel the passion, the love, and the fight for Scorpius coursing through my blood. This is everything I want and more. Perfection doesn't begin to describe everything today. Suddenly, I can't wait to say the words I've longed to say for so long to the love of my life.

But it will have to wait. Because there is Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, his blonde hair slicked back in the fashion I always despised on Scorpius. "Hello, Rose," he says pleasantly. I meet his eyes unflinchingly. This is the very first time he's spoken to me directly, and quite frankly, it's terrifying.

"Hello Mr. Malfoy," I say, hoping my voice doesn't betray the fear I feel.

"Please, call me Draco," he says. I don't even have the slightest inclination to believe he'll ask me to start calling him 'Dad.' That would almost be humorous. Almost.

"Draco," I say. "It's nice to finally talk to you."

"Yes," he says. "Finally." He pauses, searching my eyes for something. "I have wondered for so long what I would say to the woman my son is planning to marry. For a while I was sure he would never go through with it. I should have never doubted him, I suppose. He's a Malfoy, after all. There's no changing the mind of a Malfoy."

"So I've learned."

"My son has, for some inexplicable reason, chosen to marry you. I have accepted his choice grudgingly, but I will never be able to respect his choice. You will soon be a Malfoy, of course, but I will not call you family. You will be invited to all the events at the Manor, of course, but purely for keeping up appearances. Know that while my son may see something in you, I have never or will never be able to see what he does."

"Mr. Malfoy, I never asked you to invite me anywhere or expected you to ever like me. It's no secret that I don't like you, so can't we just agree to disagree?"

His smile is shallow and malicious, and I find my fear creeping up into my expression. I'm sure he senses it. "Of course," he says. "I am not an unusually cruel man, Rose, despite what you might think. But I have beliefs. I hope you understand."

"I would expect no less."

"Very well," he says, his hand on the door. He gives me one last look. "I wish you the best of luck."

Is it just me, or is there something like respect in his eyes?

There is an eerie sort of calm settling over me. I keep my eyes from drifting down to my dress, because every time I catch sight of it my heart races and all I can think about is Scorpius—his hair, his eyes, his everything—and a passion like no other roars from within me.

In ten minutes I will be a married woman. A year ago, before ever meeting Scorpius, the thought would have terrified me. Having to rely on someone else for the rest of my life, to work according to another person, and force a fiercely independent girl to live with someone else and live by his rules. But today…I am looking forward to the pure fact that we _will _be forced to become a part of each other's lives, for the good and the bad. It's terrifying and thrilling and enchanting all at once.

"My little girl. I still can't believe it's you."

My father is standing in the doorway, the saddest smile I've ever seen on his face. I hug him tightly and don't say anything. Just the fact that he's speaking to me is a miracle.

"I didn't even think you would agree to this," I say, my voice muffled in his collar.

"Can you imagine what kind of father I would be if I didn't walk my daughter down the aisle?" he says. "I'm not Draco Malfoy, darling. No one is that cruel."

"I love you, Dad," I say. "I just hope one day you can accept that Scorpius isn't his father."

He kisses the top of my head and says, "I hope so, too."

I take one last hair and makeup check before I hear the music begin playing. It's slow and sickly sweet, played on enchanted silver violins, not the traditional wedding march—but then again, nothing at this wedding is really traditional. As it is with every wedding in the Potter-Weasley household, they are held at the burrow at twilight. The bridesmaids and men walk out, two by two, until there is a sudden change in atmosphere and everyone knows that I'm next.

It's really happening. I can't believe it.

"Ready?" my dad asks. I nod and intertwine my arm with his. The bouquet of flowers I'm holding are white roses, and their smell is the only thing that calms my rapidly beating heart.

They're the only things that calm me until, of course, I see Scorpius. He is standing at the altar, the only patch of black in the sea of white and silver, and his eyes find mine. My heart quells to a slow rhythm, practically matching the music, and I have eyes for no one else.

People are captivated by my dress, of course, but I take little notice because I do not look away from Scorpius. The flickering gold catches the sun and makes me shimmer, eyes drawn to me like moth to a flame, because I am the only color within miles. I am fire, dying down to its coals, quivering in the soft twilight. I am an inferno, roaring in the distance, dangerous and alluring, as I feel right now.

Then we reach the altar, where Scorpius stands under an arch of beautiful white butterflies, and suddenly I am transformed again. I can feel it—I am the warm fire in the hearth of the Gryffindor commons, the warmth that spreads like sunlight in my blood, the love that crackles and pops from me to this man. I am everything that I have ever wanted to be, everything that I have ever wanted to have, and absolutely no idea how I got here. I am fire, once large and roaring with the expectation to burn down a forest to get to my destination, but quelled by a boy who has shown me something I have never known.

He showed me how to not care where I'm headed or the expectations of others. So long as I am happy, with the one person who I know will fight and love side by side with me, it doesn't matter. It will never matter.

He takes my hands and there is an intense happiness in his eyes that I'm sure is reflected in mine. "I love you," he says.

"I love you," I say back, in a whisper, so that we are the only ones who hear this exchange.

We begin our vows.

"Rose," he says, and it's as if there is no audience, no important wedding. It's just me. It's just us. "In our seventh year, we were both a part of a tournament you have refused to let me discuss until now. I can ask your forgiveness all I want, but the truth is much more simple. Even then, despite what I forced myself to believe, I was sure I loved you. But don't take my word for it. In the first task, where we had to face a mirror that showed our heart's desires, I didn't see what I told you I saw. I did see the approval of my family, yes, and I did see the cup in my hand. But I saw something else, too. First there was nothing, no one, not a single judgmental eye in sight. Then there was you. Just you, staring at me like you are staring at me now. I've wanted you to love me ever since that day. And here we are, and there are no words to even begin to describe the happiness I feel at knowing I get to spend the rest of my life with you."

I feel a single tear trail down my cheek, and my heart leaps when he reaches up to catch it. "Scorpius," I say, my voice weak with his words. "In our seventh year, we both played a very dangerous game. Pretending at love when we really had no idea what it felt like. It was a silly, stupid game and we tried our hardest to win over each other without ever falling in love. I knew, after I left you in the fourth task, that that was not what I wanted my life to be like. I wanted to be by your side for the rest of my life and never have a moment where I had to leave you. Screw expectations, screw winning. I wanted _you. _Yes, we played a dangerous game. But in the end we both won."

The final exchanges are made, but those are just a formality now. I bend and kiss Dora's cheek as James's son hands us the ring. Finally, we can kiss, and on his lips I feel the future that I know now is all I want. We both won something much more than a championship.

As we turn to walk down the aisle, the butterflies are released from their magical bindings in the arch and they fly above us into the beautiful twilight evening, and I feel my heart is soaring with them.

Scorpius picks me up and carries me down the aisle as people cheer and clap, and when we're finally back inside he kisses me and showers me with affection. When he places me in his lap and runs his fingers through my hair before kissing me again, I feel like it's our first kiss. A whole new world of possibilities and adventure is before us. It's a whole new tournament to play in.

"We're playing a whole new game now," he says, and I will myself to be closer to him, so there isn't an inch of physical separation between us. I smile and wonder at his words, the implications of them, of marriage, and decide that there's no one in the world I'd rather be playing it with.

"There's no winning this one, then," I say. He kisses me again and I feel the thrill of the day hot in my blood.

"The prize is really something, though," he says, and I can hear the butterfly wings chiming in the outside air, mingling with the voices of family and friends. "It means a lifetime with you."

I still find his smile dazzling. "Well, then I guess there's nothing left to play for. We've already won."

Our foreheads touch and we just stare, blue to blue, until the outside world demands to see us again—the newlywed, happy couple, that could care less what our future brings, so long as we are together.


End file.
